Ragnarok
by The BlackStaff and NightMarE
Summary: A subtle manipulation. A time event. A surprising revelation from a desolate future. A monster unleashed. Follow the fate of the wizarding world when Albus Dumbledore is forced to change his way of thought. The lines of present, past and future blur and for once, Voldemort isnt the deadliest threat. Starts after the fourth year. Time-Travel! Powerful! Harry, Harry/Daphne.
1. Chapter 1 : A desolate future

**Year 2012.**

" _But Professor, you are the one who had always stressed upon the fact that Time was not to be meddled with. Bad things happen to those who mess with time."_

" _I know, Miss Granger." Albus Dumbledore sighed heavily. "But desperate situations call for desperate measures. We are already in a mess as it is. When a fire goes out of control, the only plausible thing to do is light another fire."_

" _But Professor-"_

" _I have made up my mind, Miss Granger. Please do not misconstrue this as an act of haste on my part. I assure you I am trying to get this done, making sure to keep the timeline from falling apart."_

" _What… exactly are you trying to do, Professor?"_

" _I am intending to send a message to my former self, back in 1995, about something which I once knew but had chosen to forget… An information that could very effectively change the course of history, and perhaps, the incident regarding Harry Potter could be averted as well."_

" _If Harry was here…" Hermione answered, wiping a lone tear that fell down her cheek._

" _What happened to Harry was… unfortunate, but struggle is a part of life, and not dependent on any single person's presence or absence. If young Harry had been… well, we will have to do this without him."_

 _Hermione Granger did not answer._

" _I know Harry was very dear to you, and I know that you had been there, trying to tell everyone to reconsider it all, but… anyway, the Gryffindor Army is almost in ashes, and now after the fall of the ICW and the international Guilds, this… gamble is the only thing we have left. So the question is…" He paused, his icy blue eyes staring into her sharp, brown ones. "Are you in, or are you out?"_

" _I am… in. Professor."_

" _That is all I ask, Miss Granger."_

* * *

 **Year 1995.**

Albus Dumbledore ignored the tinge of pain on his old shoulders. It seemed like the events around him had made him forget the fact that he was over a hundred and fifty years old, and wasn't a Hogwarts student anymore. Wearily, he closed the tome with a sigh, and pushed it away over the table. Lord Voldemort had returned, and with the way things were turning out, the battle against Voldemort was nearing every minute. He just wished that his calculations and his guesses would hold true in course of time.

That led to thoughts about another lone, but the most important element in the war to come.

Harry Potter.

The boy was a horcrux, that much was true. After the incidents of Voldemort's resurrection, especially considering the fact that Tom had indeed used Harry's own blood to build his body from, had doubled the connection between him and the boy. He wondered what kind of effects would be manifested in the boy's psyche. A boy with an enormous amount of magical power, but completely indifferent to the seduction of the dark arts… the boy had always made him feel proud. Though, the student in him felt a tad disappointed that such great power lay unhoned, but it was necessary for the Greater Good of all.

 _I have to let him try out his strengths, until it is time for him to finally face off the monster that is Voldemort. Importantly, I have to make sure that Harry doesn't fall into the very darkness that once consumed Tom Riddle to transform him into the dark lord he is today…_

 _The new term will begin in a few months and I think I will have to ask Severus to-_

"Aahh!" He swooned, holding his head in pain as he almost fell off his chair. Somehow, he gathered himself up and stood, holding the table rigidly for support. As the pain receded from his mind, his eyes widened in surprise, and fear, as the truth shook him…

 _The wards…. Those wards… it is impossible that someone might have…._

He looked at his familiar, who was busy clawing and peering oddly at him. "My friend… we will have to make a sudden journey; to a place I swore I would never visit ever again…"

* * *

There was a flash of flames as Master and familiar stood in front of a dilapidated cottage. Fawkes sung a tune of melancholy as he perched on Albus's shoulder, as the old man walked past the rotten, pest-infested garden, past the creaking wooden gate at the front. He stepped on the rickety wooden doorstep as his hands slowly crept towards the metal door knob, while his eyes stared emotionlessly at the name engraved on the nameplate.

 **Percival Dumbledore.**

 **Kendra Dumbledore.**

 **Albus, Aberforth and Ariana Dumbledore.**

 _What's makes a home a home? Al- do you know the answer?_

Dumbledore shook his head, as if physically shaking off the memories that were trying to push into his mindscape, as he erected his Occlumency shields. He turned the knob as he stepped into the drawing room. The entire property had been placed under the Fidelius, and no one- not even Aberforth had ever wanted to visit the house, and face the memories bound to the place. The two brothers had decided to bury it all, and hence, Albus had placed it under a Fidelius, though he had simply told Ab that he had demolished it completely.

 _I don't think I can ever raise a wand to demolish the place that holds memories about Ariana._

Besides, there was another strong reason behind his apparent lying to his brother. A secret that had been kept through generations of the family line of Aldor, an ancient family which had been forced to go underground, only to come back into the open under a different name… when the last descendant of the family, Kendra had married with a young man from a minor-half blood family, Percival Dumbledore. Being the eldest, Kendra had passed on the legacy of her bloodline to Albus, and so had she began teaching him the habit of secrecy right from when he was five. An art, which lay in the Aldor bloodline itself.

 _How many times after all, had Elphias commented at how I was a natural at secrecy…?_

He stepped inside the main drawing room, with eyes only towards one single nameplate on the left.

 **Kendra Dumbledore.**

He turned open the knob, and stepped inside. The room was completely dilapidated, nothing unexpected at all… though he was sure that for all of the apparent state of the room, the object was here, just like she had taught him. Along with that, came the words Kendra had told him in a whisper…

" _When the great wolf howls in fury, it is time for the descent of the dark God…"_

He held his head in pain. He had taken great pains to forget the secrets that his mother had imparted to him before her sudden death, secrets that she had said were more important than anything else in the universe, and that it was the duty of the Aldors to preserve it until it was Time…

It had taken him several days to create a modified Fidelius that would not only remove the house from reality, but also remove the secret with it… until when he would step inside the house. Though he wasn't a fan of obliviating himself of potential information, this had been necessary for… _reasons._

And now it all came back… like a half-remembered dream… except that it sent shudders down his spine…

His wand came down spinning into his palm, and his hand went up subconsciously, as if it had acquired a mind of its own, as he undid the enchantment that had hidden the tome that kept the secret passed down by the Aldors.

Dreading, he slowly composed himself as he turned over the cover of the tome, as his mind registered the name of the tome, just like it had, the first time he had seen it.

 _ **The doom of the Gods.**_

His old fingers shivering with baited breath, he turned over the page as he began to read the lines... the last ones sending shivers down his spine…

 _ **When the great wolf howls in fury, it is time for the descent of the Dark God…**_

 _ **The venom that bound him, would release him to run amok…**_

 _ **The Midgard serpent shall swerve and strike,**_

 _ **As the realm of the Gods falls before Ragnarok…**_

* * *

 **Privet Drive, Surrey.**

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!"

There was a horrible squealing yell, and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, Harry felt a creeping chill behind him that could mean only one thing. There was more than one.

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. "Where's — wand— come on — _Lumos_!"

He said the spell automatically, desperate for light to help him in his search — and to his disbelieving relief, light flared inches from his right hand — the wand tip had ignited. Harry snatched it up, scrambled to his feet, and turned around. His stomach turned over. A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly toward him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.

Stumbling backward, Harry raised his wand.

 _No time to care about stupid Ministry rules when a dementor is off to eat your soul…_

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silvery wisp of vapor shot from the tip of the wand and the dementor slowed, but the spell hadn't worked properly; tripping over his feet, Harry retreated farther as the dementor bore down upon him, panic fogging his brain.

"Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!"

Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand.

 _Concentrate Potter. Concentrate…_

"Expecto Patronum!"

Still nothing significant. The entire area was getting ice-cold, and he could feel himself shivering in cold. He thought he heard a thud somewhere close to him and that meant only one thing- either Dudley had collapsed or- he didn't want to think about the other, more frightening possibility.

There was laughter inside his own head, shrill, high-pitched laughter. He could smell the dementor's putrid, death-cold breath, filling his own lungs, drowning him the depths of his own darkness, his negativity from the incidents of his life. He could hear his mother screaming…

 _Would it be so bad to die? It might even be painless. I wouldn't know, never have died, have I? And I would see my parents again…_

His eyes closed and for a moment he thought he was going to see his parents as his hold upon his beloved wand seemed to flicker, but the moment his eyelids drooped, he could have sworn to have seen a flash of _blue lightning_ , and felt a surge of anger flow through him…His wand-hand moved automatically on its own, and his lips automatically chanted the incantation…

" _Expecto Patronum!"_

A shaft of white light erupted out of the wand, impaling the nearest of the two dementors through its abdomen, severing it into two distinct halves. The entire thing happened in less than a second, and the other dementor, seeing the impossible happen before its own eyes, figuratively, gave out of a shriek of agonizing pain as it fled away, dissipating into the darkness all around him. Harry somehow pulled his wand back into his robes before losing himself into oblivion.

* * *

"Harry?"

"Harry?"

He slowly lifted his eyelids, and felt a tinge of pain, shutting them down instantly. The pain restarted his mental facilities once again, as he slowly opened them back again, recognizing the tuft of great, bushy, brown hair hovering over him- hair he would recognize any day, anywhere.

"Hermione?"

Bright, brown eyes looked at him with happiness, as Hermione Granger turned back and yelled, "RON! MRS. WEASLEY! HARRY IS AWAKE!" A series of loud footsteps on cranking, wooden stairs were heard as a multitude of people flooded in, led by Ron and the twins, with Ginny just behind them.

"Oh, just move it. Let me get to the boy." Harry heard Mrs. Weasley scoff as she dug out a place, shoving the twins off on either side, as she stepped forward. He slowly looked around.

"Where am I?'

"You are… oh, darn it. You are home with us, my dear boy. How are you feeling?" She cut off affectionately, as she placed her hand on his cheek.

"I'm good," he flushed, still not used to such open displays of affection from people. Hermione- she was a different thing altogether, but he still had some reservations with Mrs. Weasley. "what had happened to me?"

Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. "I- we—well, I don't think I am the right person to answer it. Can you get up?" She placed her hands at his back, as he slowly sat atop the bed.

On closer glance, the room looked quite strange. For one, it was painted in green and silver, and not the usual saffron and gold that marked Ron's room. The bed felt much more comfortable, though the surroundings felt remotely alien to him. There were antiquities and artifacts all around, a large ornate mirror that looked as good as new, and some pictures and graffiti that he was sure Ron would never allow to stay on his wall.

"Where am I?" He repeated.

"You are in my house, godson."

Harry spun so quickly that his neck almost snapped. His godfather, the notorious Sirius Black was leaning against the door, looking at him, eagerly.

"Sirius…" Harry croaked.

Said man swiftly left his place and strode towards his favorite person on earth, as he hugged him. Harry reciprocated it reluctantly.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

"I'm good, though I would feel better if someone told me where am I, and uhm, what am I doing here?"

Sirius grinned. "As I mentioned, you are in my House. This is the ancestral townhouse of the Blacks. Since I am the only Black left, it now belongs to me."

"How did I get here?" Harry pressed.

Sirius's grin vaporized off his gaunt face. "What do you remember, Harry?" He ignored the uncomfortable look that Mrs. Weasley gave him.

Harry furrowed his temples as he thought about what he last remembered. "I remember facing two dementors, and then my Patronus- it wasn't working, and then I thought I was about to die-" He paused for a moment, ignoring the looks of shock in everyone's eyes-"I—I closed my eyes and then—lightning-I think I cast another Patronus but the stag did not form, and then-", he paused, as he looked at Sirius, "I don't remember."

Sirius gave out an uncomfortable sigh.

"Harry, you were attacked by two dementors on Friday, August 2nd. Today is August 5th. You have been unconscious since then."

Whatever he had expected, this was not it. "The—three days? But, I just remember falling unconscious—but then-who brought me here? What happened to Dudley?"

"Harry-", Hermione offered with a reluctant expression, "Dudley, your cousin—he's dead."

Harry's pupils dilated, as he digested the words. While he had no love lost for his overweight cousin, he certainly didn't hate him enough to let him be killed, and certainly not by having a dementor suck off his soul.

"Your family wasn't in the right state to take you in, and-" Mrs. Weasley took over, "we brought you in."

 _I am surprised they didn't hack my unconscious body to pieces after what happened to Dudley!_

"How did you-" Harry stopped midway, "right, you have been watching me, haven't you?" He almost sneered, though somehow the anger was missing.

"Harry mate, Dumbledore didn't want-" Ron spoke up for the first time, but a loud cough from Mrs. Weasley stopped him midway.

"Why don't you come down to have something, Harry? It's almost time for dinner." Mrs. Weasley replied with a little forced sweetness. "You must be hungry."

Harry wanted to refuse but the noise from his traitorous stomach proved otherwise.

Molly smiled. "Let's get you down. We can talk more after the meal."

* * *

It was scarcely less gloomy than the hall above, a cavernous room with rough stone walls. Most of the light was coming from a large fire at the far end of the room. A haze of pipe smoke hung in the air like battle fumes, through which loomed the menacing shapes of heavy iron pots and pans hanging from the dark ceiling. Many chairs had been crammed into the room for the meeting and a long wooden table stood in the middle of the room, littered with rolls of parchment, goblets, empty wine bottles, and a heap of what appeared to be rags. Mr. Weasley and his eldest son, Bill, were talking quietly with their heads together at the end of the table. It seemed that excluding the posh room in which he had been laid, the entirety of the house was dilapidated and filled with darkness and grime. He wondered silently what the Dursleys would have thought on seeing such a room. The thoughts about the Dursleys took him back to the news of Dudley's death.

 _Another of my family dead because of their association with me._

The dining hall, if it could be referred to as such, had another twenty something people in it. He wondered why all these people were staying together in a house that seemed to belong to the darkest of wizards.

 _Sirius's House. Maybe the Blacks were dark wizards or something._

He walked past Ron and sat beside him. Hermione sat on his other side, while Mrs. Weasley and Ginny sat opposite them. Ginny smiled shyly at him, and Harry returned a reluctant grin, not yet sure how to behave around the other girl. He could see Sirius sit at one end of the table with professor Lupin, and someone whom he ascertained to be a young woman with pink hair. Adjacent to them were Mr. Weasley, Bill and the twins, with the twins chatting amiably with Sirius and Professor Lupin. Sirius looked at Harry and gave a supportive smile. Harry reluctantly nodded back.

"Dumbledore's here!"

The sudden announcement made him spin his head, and just as expected, there was some kind of activity in the other room as Albus Dumbledore, in aquiline blue robes, and followed by a tall, bald, dark-skinned auror and another woman Harry did not recognize, entered the room. Then there was Hagrid who was following behind him, and lastly, much to Harry's shock, walked in Severus Snape. Dumbledore walked in and took the seat on the other end, followed by the remaining crowd who also took their seats, save for Snape.

"Won't you be attending Dinner, Professor Snape?" One of the men seated on Dumbledore's end asked meekly. Snape gave an expression of pained courtesy as he almost sneered, "I have some important business to attend to, as much as I would-" His dark onyx eyes glanced at Harry momentarily, "-like to celebrate the return of the Boy-who-lived to the world of the living."

Harry clenched his fists but did not reply back. He managed a passing glance at Sirius who looked angry and about to refute but Lupin held him back. Dumbledore simply coughed, and Snape, taking his cue, walked out of the dining room, leaving everyone in the awkward silence following the conversation.

"Ah Harry, my boy, nice to see you up and fine." Dumbledore replied cheerily, as Hagrid cheered with his glass of what Harry assumed was fire whiskey.

"I am fine," Harry hesitated, "—sir."

"I am surprised you haven't begun asking questions about what is going on, and about Voldemort and-" - everyone flinched-"the attack on your person."

"It did come across my mind, sir." Harry returned frostily, himself unsure where the sudden dislike towards the old man had germinated in his mind.

Dumbledore ignored it. "This," he paused. The man had a flare for dramatics, that was for sure- "is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. It is an organization that was originally created to fight against Voldemort," -another flinch— "and his followers in the first war."

"Dumbledore's leading it, like he did in the first war, 'Arry!" Hagrid added.

Harry nodded slowly. "What had happened to me?"

Dumbledore looked at him non-commitally. "To be honest, my boy, I am still researching about it. I have some ideas, but none of them are established as correct. Why don't you tell me what you remember?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. This was the second time he had gotten this kind of evasive answer. "I was attacked by the dementors, and I tried to do my Patronus, but I almost failed, and then," He paused, trying to rethink what had happened, "I fell unconscious."

Dumbledore nodded, biting into his meal, as his moustache quivered. "Some of the Order members spotted it happening, but before anyone could do anything effective, you were already fighting with the dementor. However, they did spot what exactly had happened."

Harry edged closer to the table.

"Miss Vance?" Dumbledore urged. The woman seated three chairs next to him, cleared her throat. She looked kind of dainty, with a touch of aristocracy in her countenance.

"I was a little late for the Order shift, but when I did reach there, I spotted two dementors attacking you and your cousin, I believe, and I did spot you trying to do the Patronus. You were falling down on the ground, and the dementor was about to, you know-", she hesitated, "and then suddenly you stood up mechanically, and yelled out the charm." She paused with a tone of reverence in her voice, "—and I saw that great shaft of white light shoot out of your wand and cut the dementor in two pieces, while the other dementor shrieked and fled away."

 _I killed the dementor? But why can't I-_

"Was there any lightning-you know, in the sky, Miss, erm, Vance?"

"Call me Emmeline. Emma if it's too long." She replied curtly. "No, there wasn't."

"Harry," Hermione dived in, "Dementors thrive in the dark. Everything turns cold and cloudy, remember? It is impossible that there was any kind of lightning in the sky."

 _Ri9ht._

"When we brought you here, you were burning, mate. Like, literally burning. Hermione's hands got scalded when she tried to hug you." Ron added, as Hermione flushed at the remark. "It took a day for you to cool down."

"We always knew you were hot, Harrikins," Fred teased, "but we didn't expect burning-hot."

Harry almost flushed. There, he just had to go ahead and show off another abnormality.

 _Why can't I just be normal?_

 _Being normal is so overrated._

 _Who was that?_

He almost stood up in shock, attracting glances from everyone else. Dumbledore looked at him oddly. "Everything all right, my boy?"

"Did anyone—well, speak to me just—never mind." He sat down on the chair, ignoring the looks of curiosity and sympathy on other's faces. He hated it.

"Is something the matter, Harry?" Professor Lupin asked.

"No, everything is all right. I just need some time to myself, I suppose." Harry mumbled. "What is Voldemort doing? I haven't read anything in the Prophet."

"You are children," Mrs. Weasley intervened, and that too rather loudly. "That is a topic for us to deal with." She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched upon its arms, every trace of motherly persona gone.

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" asked Sirius. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen. He has had to deal with Him since he was a toddler." Sirius countered heatedly. Harry felt a tinge of affection for the man. "Hang on!" interrupted George loudly.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" said Fred angrily.

" _We've_ been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!" said George.

" _You're too young, you're not in the Order,_ " Fred butted in, in a high-pitched voice that sounded uncannily like his mother's. "Harry's not even of age!"

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's doing," said Sirius calmly. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand —"

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply. Her normally kindly face looked dangerous. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?" Neither of them cared to look at the very person they were quoting, who sat with a sublime expression on his face.

"Which bit?" Sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he _needs to know,_ " said Mrs. Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words.

"Sirius, Molly, please sit down." Dumbledore replied assertively. "While I agree that Harry is young and a teenager, it is obvious that he is the person Voldemort will and has been concentrating for the most, and thus, it is imperative that he should know about what is going on."

"Headmaster!" Mrs. Weasley replied in a shocked tone, her tone one of complete and utter disbelief. "You are supporting this decision? You yourself said that-"

"I know what I said, Molly. And I changed my original decision. I have accepted that no matter how hard I try; it always comes down to Harry at the end. Hence, it is imperative that certain things should change."

"But-"

"I support his point, Molly." Lupin spoke up. "I think it better that Harry gets the facts — not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture — from us, rather than a garbled version from… others."

"But-"

"Molly." Dumbledore asserted.

"Very well," Molly got up, looking very much ostensibly like a wounded tiger, retreating after a tough fight, "I see no one here wants to see my point of view." She cast a dirty look at Mrs. Weasley who seemed way too intent to talk to Bill, and then took a deep breath. "Very well, Harry stays. Everyone else, back to bed."

There was instant uproar.

"We're of age!" Fred and George bellowed together.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" shouted Ron.

"Mum, I _want_ to know!" wailed Ginny. Harry personally thought it to be rather childish of her.

"NO!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, standing up, her eyes bright. "I absolutely forbid —"

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," said Mr. Weasley wearily. "They _are_ of age —"

"They're still at school —"

"But they're legally adults now," said Mr. Weasley in the same tired voice. Mrs. Weasley was now scarlet in the face.

"I — oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron —"

"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" said Ron hotly. "Won't — won't you?" he added uncertainly, meeting Harry's eyes.

For a split second, Harry considered agreeing with Ron that he would tell him everything, but then the letters he had received, at the Dursleys came to mind. He slightly felt a little vindictive and agreed that he could try a taste of being kept in the dark and see how he liked it. The impulse increased as they looked at Hermione. For all her smarts, they had kept him in the dark.

"No, I won't. I will let you guys stay in the dark for some time and try see how it feels." Harry said. Ron and Hermione stood aghast. Mrs. Weasley smiled wearily. "Ron! Hermione! Ginny — BED!"

The three did not go quietly. They could hear them raging and storming all the way up the stairs.

"Okay, Harry… what do you want to know?" Sirius asked, almost happily.

Harry took a deep breath and asked the question that had been obsessing him for a month. "Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news," he said, ignoring the renewed shudders and winces at the name, "and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything —"

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," said Sirius, "not as far as we know, anyway. And we know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do anyway," said Lupin.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asked. He knew that Voldemort had murdered more than once in the last year alone.

"Because he doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment," said Sirius. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," said Lupin with a satisfied smile.

"How?" Harry asked perplexedly.

"You weren't supposed to survive!" said Sirius. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," said Lupin. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"How has that helped?" Harry asked, almost sceptically.

"Are you kidding?" said Bill incredulously. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of!"

Briefly, Harry thought about how the sixteen-year-old had replied when Harry himself had repeated the very words in front of him around two years ago.

" _Dumbledore has been driven away by a mere memory of me…."_

He wondered if the adult, and much more powerful Tom Riddle deviated from that attitude, but kept it to himself.

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned," said Sirius.

"So what's the Order been doing?" said Harry, looking around at them all.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," said Sirius.

"How do you know what his plans are?" Harry asked quickly, remembering the dreams he had gotten the previous year.

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," said Lupin, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

Harry cast a calculative glance at Dumbledore, who seemed to be taking everything happening around him in a stride. Realising that the man himself preferred not to answer, and was perfectly happy with the question-answer session going on, he quickly looked back at Lupin.

"So what does Professor Dumbledore reckon he's planning?" He asked, casting a sideward glance at the old man who looked at him momentarily.

"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," said Sirius. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command; witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?"

"We're doing our best," said Lupin.

"How?"

"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," said Bill. "It's proving tricky, though."

"Why?"

"Because of the Ministry's attitude," said Tonks. "You saw Cornelius Fudge after You-Know-Who came back, Harry. Well, he hasn't shifted his position at all. He's absolutely refusing to believe it's happened."

 _How idiotic can someone be?_

"You see the problem," said Lupin. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they really don't want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the _Daily Prophet_ not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's rumour-mongering, so most of the wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for the Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."

" _Bow before Death, Harry"_

" _I won't."_

" _I said—BOW!"_

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" said Harry, looking around at Mr. Weasley, Sirius, Bill, Lupin, and Vance. "You're letting people know he's back?"

They all smiled humourlessly.

"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mad mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand-galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" said Sirius restlessly.

"And I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," said Lupin. "It's an occupational hazard of being a werewolf."

"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," said Sirius, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."

"We've managed to convince a couple of people, though," said Mr. Weasley. "Tonks here, for one — she's too young to have been in the Order of the Phoenix last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage — Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

 _And I thought you were wreaking havoc through Voldemort's plans…_

"Ahem," Dumbledore coughed, returning Harry's attention to him. "As I mentioned previously, Harry is going to be an integral part of this war. Hence, my decision is to have him adequately trained so that he is not caught unaware in the present situation."

Every single eye stared at Dumbledore, ignoring the sudden screech of disbelief from Mrs. Weasley.

"Alastor," Dumbledore urged, and Mad-Eye-Moody, whom Harry had not yet spotted for some strange, inexplicable reason, sudden came to Harry's sight. "Harry, for your remaining stay at this place, you are going to be studying and advancing your defence studies under Alastor's supervision. I hope you will take advantage of this situation and learn the utmost."

Harry looked perpetually shocked. Albus Dumbledore, was really giving him something to learn, and the permission to practice magic during the summer? He briefly wondered what made the old man do this. The sudden feeling of irrepressible anger he felt at the man raised his ugly head for a moment.

"Advancing my defence… studies?"

"I believe you might have studied some advanced defence the previous year for the Triwizard, my boy?"

Harry almost flushed. All he had done was learn the summoning charm, and cry over his fate about how his best friend had deserted him.

"yes- yes, sir."

"Very well. Alastor here will be teaching you advanced defensive spell casting, so that you would be able to defend yourself and others when the time comes. Since Alastor can come only two days a week, I advise you to take his instruction thoroughly."

"Yes… sir."

"Very well," Dumbledore replied, noticing at how the boy had finished dinner. He spared a single glance at Harry's scar. Looking at him through his half-moon glasses, he stared at Harry curiously. "My boy, is there anything… you wish to tell me?"

Harry wondered about the voice he had heard, about the blue lightning, about the dementor attack, and about the oddly wise and sarcastic voice in his head….

"No, sir."

"Very well. You may go."


	2. Chapter 2 : A different summer

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _"Very well. Alastor here will be teaching you advanced defensive spell casting, so that you would be able to defend yourself and others when the time comes. Since Alastor can come only two days a week, I advise you to take his instruction thoroughly."_

 _"Yes… sir."_

 _"Very well," Dumbledore replied, noticing at how the boy had finished dinner. He spared a single glance at Harry's scar. Looking at him through his half-moon glasses, he stared at Harry curiously. "My boy, is there anything… you wish to tell me?"_

 _Harry wondered about the voice he had heard, about the blue lightning, about the dementor attack, and about the oddly wise and sarcastic voice in his head…._

 _"No, sir."_

 _"Very well. You may go."_

* * *

"Harry, how could you do this to us?" Hermione replied hotly, crossing her arms as Harry entered the room upstairs. He could see the twins at the window, with Ron and Hermione standing in the middle of the room. Ginny apparently, had gone to bed.

"We wanted to give them to you, mate," said Ron. "Hermione was going spare, she kept saying you'd do something stupid if you were stuck all on your own without news, but Dumbledore made us —"

"— swear not to tell me," Harry cut him off. "Been there, heard that." The warm glow that had flared inside him at the sight of his two best friends was extinguished as something icy flooded the pit of his stomach. He felt he would rather Ron and Hermione left him alone.

"He seemed to think it was best," said Hermione rather breathlessly. "Dumbledore, I mean."

"Right. You put my friendship as less important than Dumbledore's decision. There was me, slaving away at the Dursleys, and you were here, together."

"I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —" Ron began.

"Yeah?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows. "Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?"

"Well, no — but that's why he's had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time —"

Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. When Vance had stated the same downstairs, he had thought of it as some kind of covert mission, but apparently, everyone knew about everything except Harry Potter who should always be kept in the dark. A part of him wondered why things changed after he was brought in.

"Didn't work that well, though, did it?" said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. "Had to look after myself after all, didn't I?"

"He was so angry," said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. "Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary."

"Well, I'm glad he left," Harry said coldly. "If he hadn't, I wouldn't have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer."

 _Dudley wouldn't have died though._

"We weren't much better, mate. Mum made us clean and wash and wipe the grime off the walls of this wretched place. We aren't allowed to do magic even. I have been bored out of my mind." Ron spoke up, getting a hiss from Hermione, realizing that he had uttered the wrong answer.

Harry sighed, inwardly seething in anger at his friend's insensibility. How dare Ron compare it with what he had been through?

"Right." He paused. "Right! So now you are going to taste of your own medicine. You kept me in the dark because Dumbledore said so, and now I am going to keep you in the dark because _Dumbledore said so._ " He replied in a cold tone, noticing how subdued Hermione was.

 _And just like that, I have got them. Manipulation gets one anywhere and everywhere._

He marvelled at the ingenuity and the success of his own move, before a disturbing thought came to him.

 _When did I start manipulating people?_

"You are right, Harry. I would be furious if I were you, too." Hermione replied slowly. Harry did not even dignify it with an answer.

"At least tell us something, Harrikins." George tried for the other end of the room. Fred looked at him supportively.

Harry sighed. "Dumbledore has told me to get trained under Moody."

"WHAT?" The response came out in perfect unison. Harry smirked.

"How? We haven't even been allowed to use magic!" Ron replied defiantly. "Hermione was sulking for ages about how she hadn't been allowed to study from the Black library, not that I am complaining, else I would be even more bored." He continued, clearly ignoring the flare of anger in Hermione's eyes. He saw it coming too late when she swatted his head with her hand.

"Oww!"

Fred laughed.

"So Moody's training you, Harrikins? You are up to tough work." George added. Fred grinned. "Yeah, Moody is one of the top-notch Aurors."

"I bet last year's incident has made him even more paranoid." Hermione spoke up, remembering how they had been taught by an imposter the entire year.

"What did the Ministry say about the attack on me?" Harry asked suddenly.

Hermione frowned. "It seems Fudge was trying to expel you from the school, given how they had sent letters of your expulsion, for using magic in presence of muggles, but your cousin's death sent things in the wrong direction. The ministry has been in turmoil, since your cousin's death was caused by the dementor's kiss."

 _Another person of my family dead, saving me in some way._

"Fudge is apparently receiving a lot of hate mail. Dad was laughing about it the previous day." Fred quipped.

Harry did not reply.

* * *

"Potter!"

"Professor Moody?"

"Don't call me that lad, didn't get round to very much of teaching, did I?" The older man replied in his usual gruff voice.

Harry looked at him curiously. For a person who spent a decade under the Imperius curse, Crouch Junior was an extremely versatile artist, there was no disagreeing on that one. The differences between Crouch's acting and the real Moody's behaviour were almost none. The man deserved an award for that.

"Thinking about the imposter, eh?" The man laughed humourlessly.

Harry nodded slowly. "An imposter getting the best of me, the paranoid Mad-eye-Moody. Not one of my better days, I assure you. I suppose you did get some quality education from the imposter, or so I am told."

Harry nodded. "He was quite a good teacher for a death eater."

Moody laughed again, and Harry found that he did not approve of the sound. "Surely he was. You will find, Potter, that the death eaters are supremely qualified to teach the subject, since no one knows the dark arts more deeply than them. If you liked Crouch Junior, I am sure you would fall in love with Lucius Malfoy."

The thought tasted like a bad egg.

"Now, Albus told me that you are pretty good at holding your own, given the pathetic state of Defence education at Hogwarts. Given the situation we are in, my job is to train you in defending yourself, at least in the official case."

"And the unofficial case?" Harry urged.

"Unofficially, if you are competent, I will be teaching you how to make out of the impending war alive- a big achievement considering that He will be coming with leaps and bounds at you."

Harry nodded.

"I will not be teaching you curses, nor will I teach you spells. That will be your job to work on. You have got gold, buy some proper texts or get Black to get you some from the Library. I will be teaching you how to efficiently use your spells in battle and mould your magic to get out of the fight alive."

Harry nodded. "Can Ron and Hermione-?"

"No."

 _Straight to the point._

"My job is to ensure that you come out of the war alive, not to get on with classroom teaching. As it is, you are forbidden from practicing magic in the summer, so make hay while the sun shines."

 _Right. No point arguing with the man._

"And for Merlin's sake control your rapid mental tongue." Moody replied, making Harry blanch and stop the mental self-conversation playing in his mind. "And if you cannot, learn how to hide them. It is _irritating."_

"Hide them?" Harry returned.

Moody did not reply.

 _Typical._

The other man took out a package from within his robes, and expanded it, after placing it on the table. "These are the texts you are going to begin with. I am not going to entertain you with answers to any questions. Do you own research." The cloth fell off and Harry could see two large tomes on the table. "I expect you to be done with them by the end of the month. If you can, then I might make a proper fighter of you yet."

Harry did not answer back. The summer was turning out to be weirder than anything he had anticipated.

* * *

Later in the evening, Harry found himself sitting and chatting with Sirius, in his room. Sirius had declared the posh green-and-silver room as Harry's room, much to Molly's frown and her demand that Harry be staying with Ron, and Harry's delight, and Harry found himself enjoying the company of the one last, remaining person he could call his family.

"After that incident, me and James were practically inseparable." The elder man recounted, chortling as Harry grinned, drinking up stories about his parents.

"What about the holidays?"

"Well, I didn't look forward to them, to be honest," Sirius confessed gloomily. "School was much better." Harry found himself agreeing to the sentiment, since he felt the same. Hogwarts was his home, and the Dursleys were a household he had been forcefully sentenced to, every year during the summer break. A part of him couldn't help but rejoice the fact that with Dudley's death, it also ended his imprisonment for the summer, and in all probability, any chance of meeting the Dursleys in the near future. The holidays at the Dursley residence had begun with him reiterating about the night of the third task in his dreams. He had seen the same event replaying over and over in his mind, and if he was honest with himself, he was almost over it. For all intents and purposes, Cedric was the elder among them, and he was expected to stay vigilant, instead of asking Harry, who was a fourth year, asking for advice if he should whip his wand out or not. Not that he didn't feel bad for the elder boy dying, but he didn't really know him, did he?

 _I wonder what kind of reaction I will get at Hogwarts…. With the Ministry doing its best to try defame me, it is going to be another difficult year._

He briefly contemplated moving to Beauxbatons, or even Durmstrang, but would that stop Voldemort from coming after him? That was considering that he was actually allowed to do so. There was Ilvermorny in the States, but he wasn't sure if he had that kind of money in his vault to self-sustain him.

 _That reminds me, I need to go check the contents of my Vault. Who knows when it might come in handy…_

"Sirius, I need to go to Gringotts to… erm, get some money out for the books and also… well, check how much I have left."

Sirius looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "Harry, why would you need to go and check your Vault? Surely you know all about them?"

The look on the boy's face was enough evidence that the truth was contradictory to the question. Sirius sighed. "Harry, what do you know about your family?"

"Uhm, well, I know my parent's names, and that they lived in Godric's Hollow. I look like my dad and I have my mum's eyes. My father was a chaser for Gryffindor and well, they lived in Potter Cottage."

Sirius stared at him.

"Umm… did I say anything wrong?"

More staring.

 _Damn, this is uncomfortable._

"Harry, what do you know about the Potters? I mean, the Potters as a family?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Sirius sighed. "I suppose no one told you anything about them. Not that I can blame anyone. I was supposed to be there with you, as you grew up in the wizarding world. I have failed you."

"Sirius, that's completely okay. What's gone is gone, I have accepted it."

 _Have I?_

"What were you saying about the Potters? I mean, about my family?" Harry added hastily, trying to divert the entire line of discussion. It was easy since the other man did not really require much convincing, as a nostalgic colour filled his face, as he began…

"The Potters are an ancient family, though they aren't quite noble, not like the Blacks anyway. That's kind of, because your family has been away since the Wizengamot politics and focussed on building their own fortune, and not rely on the family gold. Your family has had warriors, artisans, businessmen, potioneers, and a lot of other people, everyone engaged in some particular craft. Your great-grandfather Charlus Potter was actually a close friend to my grandfather, Lord Arcturus Black, and had served in the war against Grindelwald. While yours died in the war, my grandfather lived until 1987. Charlus's wife Dorea was born Dorea Black and was Arcturus's sister, and so you actually are a Black by blood."

"So I actually had family living until 1987 and despite all of that, I was sent to the Dursleys?" Harry replied indignantly.

"Well, you will find that most ancient families are related in some way or the other. Narcissa Black, my cousin, was married to Lucius Malfoy, and thus is related to me too. So are the Longbottoms, the Weasleys, the Selwyn's, and many more, which I don't really remember."

"One Big family."

"Precisely."

Harry grinned. "Tell me more."

Sirius grinned back. "Your grandfather Fleamont was an Unspeakable, while your grandmother Euphemia was a potions mistress. It is terribly sad that Jamie never acquired her skill, and as is common word, you are _just like your father in that regard."_

Harry frowned. "Snape always says that to me."

Sirius chagrined. "Never you mind. James always had this uncanny ability to perform magic effortlessly, while everyone else would practice it again and again. He was a Master at Transfiguration, and I suspected that if not for the war, he would have taken up apprenticeship under old Minnie, who always gushed over his talents in Transfiguration."

Harry smile faltered, remembering how he was average at the subject. Then again, he never really tried to excel in anything, did he?

 _I have to do better._

Sirius did not seem to notice that. "Your mother on the other hand, had a lot of power. She was one of those rare witches who could be called a prodigy. Your bushy-haired friend actually reminds me a lot of her."

Harry smiled, thinking fondly about Hermione's prodigious talent.

"She was also capable of doing wandless magic, something that set her off from others. That was why Voldemort even tried to recruit her and James into his forces."

Harry's eyes widened. "Voldemort wanted to recruit my parents?"

Sirius grinned. "Yes. Your parents, despite their initial problems with each other, were a wonderful team when it came to fighting. As Aurors, me and James were the best team ever, but I know that James and Lily connected even better. It was a shame Lily never considered being an Auror. She would have been an outstanding one."

 _And I have been dillydallying all my life so far._

Harry almost smiled bitterly, thinking about how disappointed his parents would have been in him.

 _I have to do better._

"Tell me more." He returned, ignoring the little pit forming inside his stomach on hearing about his parent's achievements.

Sirius grinned. "I know how Snivellus keeps ranting about James in his classes. Hermione told me tons of stuff." Harry felt a little disgruntled about his friends staying with _his godfather_ while he himself was slaving away at the Dursleys, but did not show it. "-but don't let me mislead you. James and I were pranksters, no doubt about that; but when it came to battle, it was a different thing altogether." Sirius's expression turned sombre. "James changed at lot after your grandparents were killed, and your family manor was destroyed by the Death eaters. At the onset of battle, James the prankster would leave, and Lord Potter would take his place. He would be in absolute rage, and throw magic all around, only matched up Lily who was scary even in her tranquil moments. They made a very dangerous team together."

"Then why…." Harry left the question unfinished, not wanting to tarnish the new memories he had gotten about his parents.

"Why did they die?"

Harry nodded slowly.

Sirius looked solemn. "You have to understand, Harry, that this is Voldemort we are talking about. That man, is a monster. Even our best efforts could not turn the tide of a fight when the dark lord fought on the opposite end. Even Dumbledore was hard-pressed to defeat him, not that he could, since the dark lord was always a step ahead."

"I hear them, their last moments…" Harry confessed. "I hear Dad yelling at my mother to run, before being killed. I hear my mother," he paused, "begging Him to let me live…I hear them when I am close to the dementors."

Sirius looked completely in shock. "I am, I am so, so, so sorry that you have to live that moment, and that you remember it Harry…"

"I am glad that I do." Harry returned quietly. "At least I recognize their voices."

Sirius tried to keep a lone tear from dropping down his cheek.

"Tell me more." Harry urged.

Sirius nodded. "You have to understand that this is Voldemort we were talking about. The misfortunate happening at Halloween-it was a mix of many incidents. Your parents had gone under the Fidelius, and we all trusted Wormtail a lot, enough to keep him the secret keeper, and we genuinely believed that they were safe under the Fidelius. Besides, your mum fell sick, and James was always helping around the house, keeping you engaged, and your mother well-rested. Nobody ever suspected that Wormtail would…."

Sirius paused.

"I was with Frank and Alice, celebrating a drink together, and then I felt something was very, very wrong, and I raced to Godric's Hollow on my bike. The moment I was close enough, I could feel that something had happened, something very, very wrong, and then I got down and-"

His eyes got tearful, as his voice turned hoarse.

"It's all right, Sirius." Harry returned, his own eyes moist.

"Well, you are the only family I have got now." Sirius exclaimed. "After my death, you will be in line to acquire the monies of the Black family."

"Sirius, I-"

"Oh come on, Harry, would you rather let it go to Narcissa's spoiled brat?"

 _Draco? No way._

He shook his head.

"I thought so. There isn't much to do until you are older, so mostly it is the family money and this house that will be yours."

"I would prefer you alive, Sirius."

"I know, godson, but this is war. And something tells me, this is going to be your war, not mine."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Harry. I am not Molly Weasley, to cuddle you and try to keep you safe. You would do better, training yourself under Mad-eye's supervision. I only want you to get out of this impeding war safe and sound."

"I- thanks, Sirius."

Sirius grinned.

* * *

Back in the confines of his office, Albus Dumbledore slowly opened the little envelope that he had acquired from his mother's room. The envelope, by all intents and purposes, shouldn't have existed. It contained a single sheet of parchment with a single letter addressed to him. The more important and unbelievable fact was, that it was written by him.

 _ **To A.P.W.B.D,**_

 _ **From A.P.W.B.D.**_

 _ **If you are reading this letter, as I hope you do, then my plan has indeed borne fruit. This letter is to serve as a warning against a predicament that we both once knew was sure to arrive at some point in Time, but had chosen to forget.**_

 _ **Yes, I am talking about the prophetic words of our dear departed mother. About the doom of the Gods. About Ragnarok.**_

 _ **Ragnarok has come, and he has destroyed the wizarding world, and as the tale goes, there is only one power that was originally responsible for binding the great wolf away, but now, the wolf has returned, in human form, and somehow got control over the very thing that once sealed it. There is now only one thing, and by extension, one person in existence with the power to defeat Ragnarok once again. Sadly, the person is dead because of my past self's mistakes. Our world is destroyed as we know it. Only the true warrior could save it from Ragnarok, who will stop at nothing, now that the unstoppable force is under his command. Voldemort might be a threat, but trust me, for once, this is extinction as we know it. I implore that you should not commit the mistakes I committed, and do what is necessary. Don't let the darkness win because you fear the Light will go dark.**_

 _ **P.S. This is not a prank, but a situation of imminent danger. We both know that I am capable to tweaking the very spell set in the room.**_

Dumbledore folded the letter back, and placed it within the envelope, putting it into the drawer. He let out a long suffering sigh, placing his palms on the table, as he pulled himself off from his chair, to walk up to his shelf. There, just next to the sorting hat, stood a rather old tome. He took it and placed it on the table, opening the tome.

 _Ragnarok…. Ragnarok… the doom of the Gods…_

 _How do I prevent something from happening when I myself believe it as something fictional?_

He opened the tome, slowly turning over the pages… and finally there it was, a tale of legend, a story from the time before… a tale that was just as much a fable in the Wizarding world like Myrrdin Emrys, or the Deathly Hallows. Though, the latter was more intimately connected with the tale turned nightmare that stood before his eyes.

 _Ragnarok… the doom of the Gods._

His old, blue eyes began reading through it…

 _ **An eon ago, the realm of the mortal world was ruled by the sorcerers- the gods of the human race, until one doomsday, when an unfortunate incident made by the necromancer community, one that involved the God Seth, brought ruin and destruction to the world. The great beast Amarok, also known as the hound of Hell, escaped from the nether world and entered into the mortal realm, causing an immense toll of devastation. The massive hound, which seemed to be a magical cross-breed between a Nundu and a wolf, a humongous creature around ten feet in height and double in length, brought ruin upon us all. Even the descendants of the royal families were unable in restrain the creature, which seemed intent on causing ultimate devastation.**_

 _ **Everything seemed to be on the verge of destruction, when the final stand was made by two of the most powerful royal families of the old world. Atticus Slytherin appeared with the great protector of their family- a humongous basilisk, which had been in service to the family for millennia, and was fabled to be imbued with magical properties and powers which the Slytherin family had transplanted into it, was the only force that could put an active stance against the Amarok. Even then, it was too hard, as the great serpent was barely able to restrain the beast while the other sorcerers and Atticus Slytherin himself tried to beat it down.**_

 _ **Legend says that on finding those great forces battling against it, the great beast summoned astonishing capabilities and powers from the realm of Death, and was able to shift the scales of victory towards itself. The great serpent fell down wounded, and everything seemed lost.**_

 _ **Until, on a most surprising note, the last member of the infamous family of Peverell, revered by the necromancers, stepped down to battle. The revered Ignotus Peverell, known to all as the invincible, immortal sorcerer, along with some very peculiar items that he seemed to carry with himself everywhere, gave his all into the fight, opening up a portal across the realms that would banish Amarok forever. While Amarok was busy fighting the great Peverell, the serpent of Slytherin bit it in the beast's abdomen, its deadly venom slowly working its way and paralysing the wolf, not before it managed to claw through Ignotus, tearing into his left arm. Amarok was banished forever through the portal and Ignotus made sure to disband any activities that involved opening any kind of dimensional communication across worlds. Amarok was gone, and the world was ready for another attempt at life, when Chief Shaman Aldor, the greatest seer of the age, made an ominous prophecy…**_

" _ **When the great wolf howls in fury, it is time for the descent of the Dark God…**_

 _ **The venom that bound him, would release him to run amok…**_

 _ **The Midgard serpent shall swerve and strike,**_

 _ **As the realm of the Gods falls before Ragnarok…"**_

"Ragnarok… the return of Amarok… _this_ is what befalls Magical Britain in the future?" Dumbledore sighed. For once, the return of Voldemort seemed a bit too normal considering the recent facts he had just uncovered. A week ago, his mind was wrapped around finding the horcruxes, and helping the young boy make out of the war alive and be able to destroy the dark lord. But now? Everything had changed. Harry's existence was not just to kill Tom, but for something even more.

 _The prophecy marked him as the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord. Could it mark him as the one to take the fight against Ragnarok too?_

His eyes scanned the page once again…

" _The great Peverell…"_

There was no mistaking it. Harry was descended from Ignotus Peverell himself- the fact that the cloak worked so perfectly for him was more than enough assurance for the fact. But then-

" _peculiar items he carried with himself everywhere…"_

 _Could it refer to the Hallows? The Deathly Hallows?_

The cloak was one. He himself, held the Elder wand, and had tamed it well for his own use. The wand was powerful, but if he were true to himself, it's magnificence was highly overrated. Then again, he had simply won it from Gellert and did not have the Peverell blood running through his veins like Harry did. Could it be possible that the wand might just work a little _differently_ for the boy? Was there the chance that the Deathly Hallows might just be the very thing that opened the portal once and had the ability to do so once again when wielded by the one of Peverell blood?

 _I have to try…_

There was also the matter of the stone. The most difficult piece to find. The stone had been lost ages ago, and no one had ever spotted it in centuries. How would he be able to get his hands before-?

His eyes widened, as he quickly rammed open his drawer, and took out the letter, reading it again.

" _ **the wolf has returned, in human form, and somehow got control over the very thing that once sealed it."**_

"This is it!" He muttered excitedly. "The wolf, he had the Hallows to himself, which means, which means that the stone is still intact and present somewhere. But then, what about using them- the powers of the Hallows, wouldn't it be too much power for any single person? Could he stand the chance of allowing another gifted person to fall to the taste of true power and turn to the Dark?

He considered it. If the hallows did work, and had miraculous powers as they were claimed to be, and if young Harry was indeed the true owner of the Hallows, it could grant the Light a significant chance at victory- not only against Voldemort, but against Ragnarok as well. Maybe, just maybe, it was for the greater good of all, that he should stop his passive ways, and take up an active role in training the young boy up to face the problem which would ultimately be Voldemort. And then, perhaps the world could get a chance against Ragnarok…

 _Maybe I need to do more than get Harry be trained by Alastor. I need to actively participate in the boy's training as well…_

His thoughts turned to Harry Potter. The young boy showed signs of being a wizard of great power and potential- not that there was no suspicion or doubt about it in the first place… He had enormous courage, a fact that was reinforced again and again in his repeated attempts to not only face but fight off Voldemort multiple times in the last years, his unrelenting attitude in the face of adversity, his tremendous power, as demonstrated by his Patronus, and recently, by the incident with the Dementors… the only thing that he lacked was a good arsenal of spells and sound knowledge. The issue about the horcrux in his head was troubling indeed, but perhaps he could legilimize the boy's mind to figure something out. It had been one of the reasons for him to want Severus to teach the boy Legilimency. Severus doing it would remain unnoticed by Tom, should he chance upon and discover the connection between himself and Harry, but now…? Things had changed. He would have to teach the boy himself. He knew without any doubt that with the correct diligence and mentoring, the boy could be great, but for that to happen, it was a requirement that Harry himself welcomed the extra tutelage. The last four years had demonstrated a particular proclivity to remain average and an unwillingness to learn more than the barest minimum, not that his friendship with Ronald Weasley did anything to help matters. While Mister Weasley had a good heart, and he was sure that the boy would be a good friend to Harry, Albus worried that the Weasley boy's lack of self-worth and his proclivity to being idle, was a bad influence on Harry. Why Harry decided to befriend him and not someone like Neville Longbottom was beyond him. His father had been great friends with Frank and it was almost obvious that Harry would be-

 _Would he? The boy did not know anything about his family. In the grand scheme of things, I have forgotten what it is like to be young and a kid. In my attempt of keeping him safe, I forgot giving him access to his own family history…_

"Maybe Sirius would be a good idea to educate him on that regard…" He wondered. The boy had taken to Sirius very easily, just like his father had had before him. And why wouldn't he? Sirius was after all, Harry's godfather. Perhaps he should consult with Sirius in that regard.

His thoughts shifted to the Ministry. Cornelius was going to draw wrong conclusions about every decision he took, and to be honest, he was growing tired of it. So far, he had withstood it, knowing that he had time to bear it all. Now though, the game had changed, and the magical world was on board for a much more ruthless game, whether it was ready or not. He only wished that his Aldor ancestors would show him the right path and maybe, just maybe, weave it through Ragnarok.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE : I am sorry for the delay in posting, but I have taken up a new job and added with my studies for my Mastery, I hardly, if ever, get time to work upon my stories. My next chapter of Defiance is almost done, and it will be up in a couple of days. Predator and Prey, I had written something, but a change of plan made me alter the chapter all over again. I believe another chapter of Predator will be up by a week's time. Thank you all.  
**


	3. Chapter 3: A taste of reality

_**Previously on Ragnarok…**_

" _Maybe Sirius would be a good idea to educate him on that regard…" He wondered. The boy had taken to Sirius very easily, just like his father had had before him. And why wouldn't he? Sirius was after all, Harry's godfather. Perhaps he should consult with Sirius in that regard._

 _His thoughts shifted to the Ministry. Cornelius was going to draw wrong conclusions about every decision he took, and to be honest, he was growing tired of it. So far, he had withstood it, knowing that he had time to bear it all. Now though, the game had changed, and the magical world was on board for a much more ruthless game, whether it was ready or not. He only wished that his Aldor ancestors would show him the right path and maybe, just maybe, weave it through Ragnarok._

* * *

 **Year 2012…**

"Hunt for her, make sure she doesn't manage to escape…" yelled the guards, as the entire platoon of guards, each holding a huge spear in hand, ran in precise formations as they hunted for her, not knowing that the escapee was hiding just beneath the floor.

"The situation is omega three, capture her if possible. Kill her if not. Under no circumstances, should she be allowed to flee. She was wounded, she won't be far."

"Yes, sir." The guards returned in unison, as they began an active search through the grounds.

Beneath them, on the floor below, Hermione Granger slowly paved her way across the dimly lit chamber. The enormous portion of the spear that had impaled her, sent flaming pain through her nerves with each movement. The poison lining the spear had restricted her from using a majority of her magic, and she was in no capable of fighting against the blood loss that would follow should she extract the spear out. Impaled through her abdomen, she treaded slowly, clinging from pillar to pillar, praying to the powers that be that this last action should go successful. She just had to, just had to reach the portal chamber. It was the only way.

Her thoughts shifted from Albus Dumbledore, about how he had committed so many mistakes misguidedly, trying to hold true to his initial passive nature. She thought about Ron, never able to control over his own jealousy and emotions. She thought about everyone, how Magical Britain had fallen over, back to the sunken pit of bigotry despite the decades of war that the very bigotry had landed upon its shores.

"I have to reach there, anyhow…" She replied to herself, as she dragged herself towards the central room of the building.

 _The portal chamber._

Hidden inside the great edifice of the ICW, was an ancient chamber, built by ancient priests of old, and inside it, stood an ancient relic, an artefact that was preserved over eons, initially by the Lord's gathering, then by the Mage Council, and finally by the ICW. The names changed, but the duty remained the same.

To protect the ancient portal, and keep the balance of the time line preserved.

 _The portal's job is to light the flame of destiny, and keep the time line intact. Mine is to extinguish it._

* * *

 **Year 1995.**

"Ignis!" Harry hissed, as his wand spew flames towards the veteran old Auror, who cast a powerful Ventus charm, blowing the flames back towards Harry who had to jump out of the way.

Moody laughed.

Scowling, Harry dodged the incoming hex, allowing it to slice through the table behind him into two halves, as he sent a disarming charm, followed by a quick petrifaction hex towards the other man who parried it effectively, scowling at the by as he had been just insulted.

"What do you think you are doing, lad?" Moody scowled, "a disarming charm, really? This is battle. When I throw a decapitation charm at you, you don't send back a disarmer. You send back something equally deadly."

Harry stopped and looked surprised.

"What are the offensive spells you know of, boy? Pray tell something that can be used in a fight and not in a classroom duel." Moody spat.

Harry looked down at his wand. Looking up, he tried to look at Moody in the eye and answered, "bone-breaking curses and the Cruciatus." The other man's face shifted into a half-grin, making him look scarier, as he chortled. "Ah, and now the truth comes out. Ever cruciated anyone, boy?"

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"I am here to train you, lad, not report to Albus."

"I did not cruciate anyone. I just tried to cast it once."

Moody looked at him speculatively. "Very well, I give you permission to use any curse or spell that you know, with the exception of the killing curse that is, to fight against me. Do your worst."

Harry looked at the man with disbelief.

"I have seen your power, boy, and I know how you keep yourself from using it completely. Use it, damn it. Use it, and you might just get out of this oncoming war alive."

Harry considered it for a moment, before he nodded.

"Lacero!" Moody called out, as a severing curse shot out of his staff, aiming towards Harry who waved his wand to cast a deflective shield like he had learnt from the book Moody had given him. He whipped his wand like a sword forward and muttered to himself…

" _Ossis Fragmen…"_

The grey bone-breaking curse shot out of his wand, hurling towards Moody, who manifested a shield. The shield shattered as the overwhelming force of the bone spell hit it, as Moody dodged in time to escape the impact, as Harry stood and gaped at the effects of the spell he had just cast.

"That was some curse, boy. I hope you make it a habit to cast spells like that. This is war, boy, and there is no place for stunners and disarming charms in a war."

Harry nodded.

"Albus wouldn't want me to tell you this, but personally, I think you should know this. The previous time, we won the war only because of a fluke accident that caused Voldemort's death" - Harry raised his eyebrows-"and I am not sure that we can expect that a second time."

"You don't believe in the Boy-who-lived rubbish, sir?"

"Haah! Load of trash! The finest Aurors couldn't do anything to that monster, not even James Potter and Black together could do so. What chance would a tiny toddler have?" he chortled, before staring at Harry, "—however, I must say Potter, I might not have Albus's faith in you, but I do know that I have never met someone so young and yet so magically powerful. If I can make you hone this power into deadly skill, you just might be what this war needs."

"What do you mean?"

Moody frowned. "You must be hit in the head to not know that. Your name carries immense weight in the magical society-"

"It might not be the same now, with Fudge-" Harry began, but Moody cut him off. "-that might be, but it is temporary. When Voldemort strikes, and strike he will, the Ministry will fall down to Dumbledore and you to help them fight against the Dark. The Potters might not be politically powerful, but your name carries power. The Black fortune is one of the largest, and coupled with the Potters, it gives you more than enough fortune to finance the war yourself and still have something left by the end of it. You are magically powerful, and people want a powerful person to lead them. You have to take the stand, and be confident. Do that, and you will see how things steer clear of you."

"How did you know about the Black-"

"Who do you think gave Black the idea?" Moody chortled. "It was me, boy."

"You?"

Moody nodded.

"What is going on about the guards, sir?"

"Black told you?"

Harry did not show any reaction.

"It is one of Albus's grand schemes which I don't agree with. It is an Order Secret and I cannot reveal it to you."

"Right."

"However," Moody drawled a little, "-maybe some thief could be more amenable to giving you information, more than what I would be able to say." He continued, staring at Harry pointedly, "—I hope you understand what I mean?"

Harry slowly nodded his head.

"Personally, the Order has become like chicken more recently. The Order of the Phoenix was a dominant force in the first war, especially considering the people in it. Your mother herself, for one, feisty and powerful packed in one. Now though… it has become a passive organization that walks in to clear out the destruction left out by the Dark lord's forces."

"You don't agree with Professor Dumbledore, do you, sir?" Harry asked quietly.

"I don't." Moody agreed, slowly sitting down on one side, conjuring a water-filled flask and dropping his magical eye inside it. The spherical eyeball turned over and over, turning all around with an eerie glance.

"Death eaters have started attacking, and very soon, it will all come to light. The Order is simply not doing enough, or is it capable of doing enough."

"What are you trying to convey, Mad-eye?" Harry questioned.

"The magical world needs an active stance against the death eaters, not a passive one."

"Then why are you in the Order?" Harry returned blatantly, before realizing that he might have overstepped his limits. "I mean-"

"Because there wasn't a third choice." Moody replied with a tone f reluctance and sadness in his voice. "—The Ministry or the Order, the lack of a third choice has made a lot of _real troops_ from actively participating in the oncoming fight."

"Real troops?", Harry questioned.

"Think about it, Potter. The magical world has over three times muggleborn citizens than the pureblood fraternity. All of them has once studied, and acquired education at Hogwarts or the other public schools, and have been forced to take up underpaid jobs for lack of a better option. People who have abilities but lack representation. People who can make a real difference in the war, but are always turned a blind eye when it comes to the political decisions. Think about your friend Granger- she is more brilliant than any other witch I have met, but at most, she can get an underpaid job at some useless Ministry department."

"Are you saying what I think you are saying?" Harry questioned.

Moody stared at him for a moment. "I will see you during the next session. Prepare well." He turned away and walked out of the training room, leaving Harry alone to his musings. No one noticed the bright, brown eyes that stared at him in silence from the half-closed window.

* * *

The next meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was on, and Harry found himself sitting beside Sirius and Remus, while Hermione, and Ron sat on his other side. The rest of the Weasleys and some more Order members had seated on the other side of the magical expanded table, with Albus Dumbledore seated at the head, on one end.

"How is your training going on, Harry?" Albus asked genially.

Harry smiled and nodded hesitantly.

"The boy is acceptable, Albus, if he understands how to use his power and hones his skill." Mad-eye replied from the other end. Snape looked at Harry and frowned nastily, as he glanced at Dumbledore.

"Knowing Potter, I can honestly pity with you, Moody." Snape cut in silkily. "I hope he is skilled better at Defence than he has shown to be in Potions."

Ron cast a dirty look at the Potions Professor, but Harry did not react. Hermione placed her hand over his, glancing at him.

"Harry, my boy, I wish for you to meet me privately after dinner." Albus replied with a casual tone, though the sudden invitation did not go unnoticed by others. Sirius sat up straighter. "You too might join him, Sirius."

"The Lord's study should be a good place." Sirius offered.

"Right, let's feed the brat's ego to even greater heights." Severus commented nastily, bringing a large frown on Sirius's face, who almost rose up to the taunt, if not for Lupin who held him down.

"Look at Harry, he isn't even letting Snape get to him. You don't want to give in to his taunts, when Harry himself is composed about it."

Sirius scowled at his friend and sat back down.

"Professor," offered Sturgis Podmore, "the activity in Knockturn Alley has risen drastically." He cast a look at Fletcher, who sat up straight from his usual stupor, and continued, "—perhaps Dung can elaborate…?"

"Ma friends heard some-thing about vampires. It's all hush-hush in there…" Mundungus replied, before returning back to his stupor.

"They are recruiting." Lupin added.

"Perhaps Lupin could return to his own… _kin,"_ Severus mocked, before slowly turning back to Dumbledore, "The dark lord has contacted Greyback" - Molly almost shrieked here-"and there has been activity on the continent."

"Who's Greyback?" Hermione asked.

Lupin glanced at her. "Fenrir Greyback, is Britain's most feared werewolf. He is singlehandedly, the leader of three major werewolf packs in Magical Europe."

"He is a monster." Molly almost shouted out.

Sirius stayed silent.

"The previous time, the Transylvania communities had stayed on the side lines. I am not sure they will stay the same this time too." Moody commented, before sniffing the drink from his glass.

"The Transylvanian communities?" Hermione questioned on.

"Europe's largest packs of werewolves and vampires. They have their own association and all, and mostly stay neutral." Bill Weasley explained from across the table. "After Grindelwald's defeat, they had a pact with the ICW to never attack on the nations, and coexist peacefully."

"They are dark creatures, they will never honour the pact." One of the other Order members, whom Hermione didn't know by name, spoke out. Ron nodded supportively.

"Enough, Duncan." Dumbledore replied. "We know you have your… _issues_ with dark creatures, but try not to measure everyone with the same standard."

Duncan scowled and turned away, avoiding Lupin's eye with an indifferent look on his face.

"What's his problem?" Harry whispered to Sirius.

"Duncan Bainbridge." Sirius explained. "He lost his entire family to Greyback and his pack in the first war. He lost his left arm in the fight too. Been like that ever since."

"Are there any packs that support our cause?" Harry asked loudly. Everyone stared at him as if he had just grown another head.

"The werewolves don't buy the fame of the Boy-who-lived, if that's what you are getting at, Potter." Severus sneered.

"Enough, Severus." Dumbledore reigned. Turning to Harry, he explained, "the werewolf packs are at most, neutral towards us, Harry. The Ministry hasn't been too helpful in that regard."

"Harry," Remus replied, "Greyback specifically attacks children, magical and muggle. He has been the chief cause for the rise of the werewolf community. Our laws do not allow someone like me to have access to privileged education or jobs and the like."

"With due reason." Duncan replied audibly. Snape nodded unperceptively.

Lupin refused to dignify the comment, and ignored the frowns on the table, continuing his explanation. "The lack of jobs forces werewolves to either go to the muggle world and get acquainted with it, or to join such fraternities all around the globe."

"But you got educated at Hogwarts." Harry defended.

"Only because Dumbledore put his finger on it." Remus replied without hesitation. "Even then, I have to juggle through jobs all the time. Surely you remember what happened after everyone found out I was a werewolf in your third year?"

Ron cast an evil look at Snape, who simply sneered.

" _People with abilities lack representation…."_ Moody's voice resounded in Harry's head.

"But- but, that's unfair!" Hermione cried out. "Professor Lupin was the best DADA teacher we had ever had."

Snape sneered again. It seemed that the particular expression had just been fixated on his face.

Remus just smiled sadly. "So you understand why it is so difficult to convince the werewolf communities to not take part with the Death eaters?"

"What about the vampires?" Emmeline asked.

"Same." Bill Weasley replied. "Vampires are treated only slightly better than werewolves. They get jobs, but the bigotry is the same."

Fleur sat shiftily on her seat.

 _Veela…._ Harry remembered. _Veela… Werewolves… Vampires… Giants… Half of the enemies to the State are so because the Ministry has treated them unfairly._

He glanced at Hermione.

"… _. she is more brilliant than any other witch I have met, but at most, she can get an underpaid job at some useless Ministry department."_

 _Muggleborns, centaurs, goblins, elves, vampires, werewolves…. Creatures… the main force of the Death eaters is an army of people who have been oppressed over the years, and killing them would mean killing people who are only fighting for their rights. Voldemort is simply using them for his own ends, but here am I, learning to defend and kill them…._

Harry stayed silent.

 _Are you sure you are on the right side on the battle?_

He looked up blankly, trying to figure out the source of the disembodied voice that had just resounded in his ears.

 _Who are you? What are you?_

No answer.

 _Damn…._

* * *

 **Sometime after dinner…**

"What do you think, Severus?"

Severus Snape stood stiffly on one side of the chair. His black robes hung like some great curtain, as the dark-haired man stood silently, pondering over his answer.

"The boy… is _acceptable_." It almost hurt to confess that. "His mind has begun to develop some rudimentary Occlumency shields. Quite… _surprising,_ considering how his mind was almost an open book to be examined at leisure…"

"That is great praise coming from you, Severus." Dumbledore chuckled. "My guesses were right. The effects of the Dementor attack are more than what I initially anticipated."

"What do you mean?" Snape's eyes narrowed.

"Harry needs to be trained, Severus. Trained to be the best he can be."

"This isn't going to be about the damned Prophecy again, is it Albus?"

Albus paused. "No, it isn't."

"Then why?" Severus remarked. "The dark lord is recruiting. You know that the communities will flock to him. You on the other hand, are simply allowing everything to happen."

Albus looked up. "It is not mine to do, Severus."

"Then who?" Severus returned stubbornly. "Don't tell me that it is..."

"I won't lie to you, Severus. Something has changed, and I cannot reveal it yet, but understand this, _Harry Potter needs to be trained to be the best he can be._ And I am not talking about the original plan."

"You ask too much of me, Albus."

"Would you rather have Lily's son stay untrained and fight against Tom?"

"The Dark lord would kill him anyway, Albus. Hide him away. The boy's luck will only last so long."

"And precisely that," Albus replied, "is the reason why Harry Potter needs to be trained well."

There was a knock on the door.

"That's my cue to leave." Severus stated, as he darted off, without waiting for a reply.

Albus sighed. "Come in."

* * *

Harry and Sirius entered the room.

"Ah come in, have a seat." Dumbledore offered, which was ironic, since Harry and Sirius were the ones who had the true right to the place itself.

Ten seconds passed by, and Dumbledore did not say a word. Then suddenly- "You must be wondering why I called you both here. To be honest, I only needed to talk to Harry, but I estimated that Sirius's presence would help matters a little."

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"Tell me Harry, what are your thoughts about the oncoming war with Tom."

Harry widened his eyebrows. Had Dumbledore known the negative thoughts lurking in his mind? Dumbledore always seemed to _know_ what he thought…

"I don't understand, sir." He tried his best not to look at the old man's bright, blue eyes.

"If Tom were to attack tomorrow, what would you do?"

"Is there a point to all of this, Albus? Harry's his parents' son. He would stand against Him just like he has done all this time." Sirius defended.

"I need to know, Harry. If Voldemort were to attack tomorrow, what would you do?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I would fight."

"For?"

"Excuse me?" Harry returned.

"Who would you fight for?"

"I am not sure what you mean."

Dumbledore sighed, folding his hands on the table in front of him. "It is no secret that the magical world has treated you badly over the years. I might not have expressed it, but I have watched from far how you were depressed for the major part of the previous year with the Triwizard mess."

 _You watched from far but did nothing._

Dumbledore continued. "Fighting against Voldemort means fighting alongside the Ministry. The very same Ministry which is presently doing all it can to destroy your reputation. Are you sure you want to fight alongside the Ministry?"

"What are you aiming at, Albus?" Sirius asked, disturbed at the turn of events.

"Voldemort is a Master at psychic manipulation, Sirius. He can effortlessly manipulate his enemies, confuse them and use them for his own means." Turning to Harry, "I will be frank, Harry. My first instinct has been to keep you safe and secure from the fight, but I have realised the futility of it all. My only concern is to know if you are truly up to it."

Sirius looked down, trying hard not to look at Harry, who himself seemed conflicted.

"I am going to fight," Harry spoke finally, "but I am not going to fight alongside the Ministry, nor am I fighting for Magical Britain, and the Ministry. They sent my godfather to prison for a decade without a trial. They have always been bigoted. They have turned their eyes and ears away, and are allowing Voldemort to become stronger. I am not going to fight for them." He looked up. "I am going to fight for my family, and my friends."

"And what if Voldemort leaves your family and friends untouched? Will you still fight him?" Dumbledore pressed.

"Albus, don't you think it is a bit too-", Sirius tried, but Dumbledore held his palm, stopping him midway.

"Tell me, Harry. If your friends and family are promised safe, will you still fight against Voldemort?"

His mouth almost moved automatically to say yes. It was guaranteed. He was fighting for the Light. For the Magical world, for the Ministry, for the magical people…

Was he?

 _Why is this so difficult?_

An earlier discussion with the old man came to mind…

 _The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and must be dealt with great caution…_

He looked up at the old man, and clearly thought about what he remembered about his parents.

"Yes." He paused, "I will."

Dumbledore stared at the boy in front of him. "Very well." He drew a sigh, before he continued, "This coming year, you will be taking some special classes with me. It is time I took an active interest in your education."

"Oh," Harry replied, "what will you be teaching me, sir?"

"Oh a little of this, a little of that," Dumbledore returned airily. "But I need to remind you, it is imperative that this special education must remain between us." He saw Harry raise his eyebrows. "Not even your friends Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley."

"Right." Harry answered. _And why exactly does he want that?_

"Now listen carefully, Harry. I _need_ you to learn everything you can, from Alastor. We have had a conversation at length, and he has agreed to teach you anything that you need. If you want to truly put in a significant effect on the war, I suggest you get on with it."

 _Why do I get the feeling that the old man is hiding something? Then again, he has always spoken in riddles._

 _Even the dumbest can sometimes see the Light._

The eerie disembodied voice was back.

 _Who is that?_ Harry raised his eyebrows, unsure what to think about this disembodied voice that had been speaking to him now and then… A single thought floated into his mind, something Ron had told him about…

" _Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world…."_

A sudden feeling gathered up in his chest as he felt himself being the object of a deep gaze. Professor Dumbledore was looking at him speculatively. "Tell me Harry," he remarked finally, "is there something, you wish to tell me?"

Harry paused, the nostalgia of the event getting to him. "No," He said with a finality in his voice, "there isn't anything, Professor."

"Very well," Dumbledore sighed, "off you go."

* * *

"The boy has changed." A silky voice commented from the shadows, as the outline of Severus Snape materialised softly moments after Harry and Sirius had departed from the room. "He is clearly hiding something."

"I know, Severus." Dumbledore sighed. "Your inference was right. His Occlumency, no matter how rudimentary, is enough to block a passive scan of his thoughts."

Snape looked at the other man. "What are you suggesting?"

Dumbledore stood up from his chair. "Initially, my thought was to teach the boy Occlumency myself, since Harry and you do not have the _best working_ relationship."

Snape almost snorted at his choice of words.

"However, looking at his natural talent in the field, perhaps the instruction would be best left to you. After all, you yourself were introduced to the subject through a similar procedure."

"I must ask, Headmaster," Snape began, "what _exactly_ brought this about? You know about the precarious position I am in, and the state of flux of events happening at this moment. With your sudden change of stance regarding Potter, I am afraid I find myself at a loss." He looked at the man directly, and threw open his shields.

 _What are you plotting, Albus?_

Dumbledore smiled. "For the first time, I am not."

Snape's eyes widened. "What are you asking me to do?"

"I am asking, what you are _prepared_ to do." Dumbledore replied. "For reasons I cannot disclose to you yet, I have it on good authority that Harry Potter is the one who will get rid of Tom Riddle for good. Our job is to armour him with the tools he needs."

Snape stared at the man. "I will see what I can do."

* * *

"And I win, once again." Ron clapped his hands, as he elated, defeating Hermione three times over in chess. Hermione sighed as she got up from the couch, her mind still struggling over something that had recently come to light.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ron asked, his grin a little displaced, looking at the tiny frown on her face.

"Nothing, Ron. Just thinking about stuff."

"About Harry?" Ron urged. Hermione cast a quick glance at her friend, and knowing how stubborn he could be at times, returned a hesitant nod.

"He shouldn't have hidden what he was doing all those times, I mean, we are his friends. It's almost as if he doesn't trust us."

Hermione repressed the desire to point it out that they hadn't been _quite his friends_ for some time. Not Ron certainly, considering the events of the Triwizard Tournament. She knew that Harry had forgiven Ron and all that, but she had not failed to notice the thin lines scarring their friendship. It might not be clear to Ron, but she saw it well.

 _It's almost as if he is revaluating his friendships with everyone else, especially her and Ron._

She knew that Harry was different. Not because of the Boy-who-lived thing, but something else. She knew she might be the brightest witch in class, but in real life, it had always been Harry to lead the show. Ever since first year, she had known that well, and it had endeared her to him emotionally. She knew her friend was ridiculously powerful, but lacked the skill to hone all that power. It had only been a timid guess at first, but she had relentlessly pursued texts on the subject of magical strengths, and what she had found had stunned her.

Her friend had cast a corporeal Patronus in his third year, an extraordinary feat no doubt, since it took a heavy toll on even _adult_ wizards and witches to cast the spell properly. However, the true wonder was the level of power he had thrown out in that spell.

A corporeal Patronus would at most, be able to throw off a dementor or two. Any more and it would depend upon the caster's own magical reserve and skill, and Harry Potter had done that, for a hundred dementors. If that wasn't proof of his unnatural power, Hermione wasn't sure what would.

After the incident with the Dementor attack, her friend had changed. He had grown more… _introspective,_ and had begun to hide away from her. She hoped her friendship with Harry hadn't gone too strained with the recent events.

However, that was not what was disturbing her at the moment.

"Hermione?"

Hermione glanced to her right, where Ginny was feeding Pig pieces of bacon, the little, hyperactive creature making it too difficult for the other girl to feed it in piece. Pig, or formally, Pigwidgeon, was the gift Sirius had sent Ron after the incident in third year.

"Yeah?"

"Something worrying you?"

Hermione considered it. There had been times in the past four years, when she had been at odds with her best friends, and it had been in such situations, when she had made a closer acquaintance with the Weasley girl, who had proved herself to be quite a vibrant, and enthusiastic friend to have.

"I just… I heard something, and I am confused if it is true, or not."

"What is it?" Ginny asked.

"You know how Malfoy goes on and on, about me being a muggleborn and all?"

Ginny nodded.

"I just… I want to know if it is just him, or if this is a real thing, after we graduate. I mean, will my being a muggleborn interfere with my chances at a job?"

Ginny looked tongue-tied. "Hermione, it's uh, well, the magical society is dominated by the Wizengamot and the pureblood families. This… bigotry towards Muggleborns is everywhere."

"So where do muggleborns go for jobs?"

Ginny looked at her shiftily. "Well, there are shops in Diagon and Knockturn Alley, and some private businesses owned by Purebloods, which take in muggleborns as employees, or they just move back to the muggle world at times."

Hermione widened her eyes. "So all my grades… they mean nothing in front of this magical blood theory?"

Ginny stayed silent.

"How come your dad earns so… less, despite being a pureblood? Is it because of his love for muggle stuff?"

Ginny shrugged.

"This is… unbelievable." Hermione exclaimed, "just unbelievable."

"But none less true…"

Hermione spun around as she faced her best friend staring at her in the face. "It is the truth, Hermione. You have faced it at Malfoy's hands, and you are going to face the same thing at work. Blood is more important than excellence in the magical world."

"But… but why didn't Professor Mcgonagall tell me anything about this when she came to my home?"

There was no answer.

"This isn't right. This is just not right." She muttered before leaving for her bedroom, leaving Harry to ponder over the thoughts.

* * *

 **Year 2012.**

"Concido duo." Hermione stood with baited breath as she saw the two unprepared guards slump down on the floor, the powerful bludgeoner dropping them unconscious. She felt a sharp pang inside her abdomen, as the last of her magical reserves dropped to a negligible amount. The huge artefact stood in all its glory in front, the greatest magical artefact of all magical history, the one that had kept the balance of magical life for ages.

 _It is time._

She treaded up, standing only a few steps away from the great machine, switching it on. The manuals she had gathered from the archives made it easy for her to understand its functioning, and now it was time to finish the work she had started.

WHAM!

A great sound resounded across the tunnels leading to the chamber, and from the sounds, it was clear that they had found her.

 _Damn, I am out of time. I need to do this, or else, Ragnarok will consume the world._

She pulled the magical piston up, and dropped seven drops of blood, oozing from her abdomen. She closed her eyes, and remembered Albus Dumbledore. She thought about Ron, about her friends, about the magical world. She thought about Daphne, and the horrors the girl had to suffer, and finally, about her best friend, Harry Potter.

 _I am sorry._


	4. Chapter 4 : A visitor from the future

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _She pulled the magical piston up, and dropped seven drops of blood, oozing from her abdomen. She closed her eyes, and remembered Albus Dumbledore. She thought about Ron, about her friends, about the magical world. She thought about Daphne, and the horrors the girl had to suffer, and finally, about her best friend, Harry Potter._

 _I am sorry._

* * *

 **Year 2012…**

The power behind the destructive force was so great that it shattered the walls of the main entrance of the ICW Fortress. The main buildings all around Magical Europe were already shattered and in ruins, with this one being the last one to stand on its ground. Being the one to house the most important artefacts of the magical world, its security was maximum. This particular edifice had always remained under the Fidelius with its secret known only to a selected few. However, a traitor in their midst had revealed the secret, and now, Ragnarok stood at the entrance, his first move having shattered the outer periphery wards and the proximity dome that protected and hid the edifice from view.

The mighty sorcerer, if he could be thought of as a mere sorcerer, stepped across, placing his left foot on the inside, and instantly, a roaring tidal wave of energy radiated out, blasting out his sycophants and followers, though being successful only in pushing Ragnarok back by a couple of feet.

"Get away, Ragnarok. There is no way you will be able to penetrate into our defences. That which you want, will forever remain beyond your reach," boomed the voice of the Supreme Mugwump, who stood there, the elder wand held tightly in his right hand. Albus Dumbledore waved the ancient wand towards the heavens, as a barrier of fire manifested itself all around the building, covering the building like a dome.

"Impressive." The man who was known to all as Ragnarok, smirked, before he raised his hands up, as his magic flared, and soon enough, the air all around him permeated with his magic and began to soar up, whirling around each other, attracting the flames towards itself, as a fiery tornado materialised into view. Ragnarok shoved his hands together as the humongous force of the newly created fire tornado beat itself over the dome, fire raging against fire, as the dome shook, with small fireballs falling off from the top of the dome towards the building. Panic set in.

The sorcerer called in to his power as he pushed his magic outward, as a huge shaft of red light shot out of him, striking at the fire dome, and shattering it. The cracks appeared, and before the soldiers inside could do anything, Ragnarok was gone, and in his place, stood a huge beast, a humongous wolf-like creature, almost as large as a Hungarian Horntail. The great beast roared, as its three tails swept into the ground, slashing into the earth, and sending seismic waves, powerful enough to shake the building's foundations.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" A chorus of voices yelled as killing curses flew towards the great beast, who simply stomped the ground, the reaction powerful enough to raise rocks out of the ground to intercept the nasty curse. While the curse did not kill the beast, as had been pointed out from numerous incidents before, it certainly did make it feel some form of agony. Understandably, the beast went even more feral and pounced into the building, slaughtering whoever came on its way.

The old Transfiguration Master channelled his magic through his wand, conjuring shackles and trying his level best to try restrain the wolf, while the rest of the mages fired all kinds of deadly curses towards it. Unfortunately, the beast was in no mood to cooperate. The three tails, each glowing with ethereal energies, slashed all around, decimating anyone and anything that came in contact with it. Once faced with a huge spell coalition, it opened its mouth and sent a foray of raw magic, enough to stop the spell midway and explode.

It wasn't a battle. It was a massacre. One moment the great wolf sunk it paws and decimated a couple of mages with a single blow, and in less than a second, Ragnarok had shifted back into his human form and tore a mage apart, channelling his magic through his claw-like fingers. He was simply unstoppable.

"I will stop you, Ragnarok. Even if I have to die for it." Albus claimed, as he locked in a power struggle with the invincible sorcerer.

"You will try, and you will die…" Ragnarok smiled behind the mask.

The mystical person, adorned with battle-robes and a mask to hide his face, smirked behind the mask. Many had died, trying to stand against the man, forget trying to know who it was behind the mask. As far as the official records stated, the man had no origin, no prehistory, no records…

 _It was almost like he dropped from the sky at some point in time._

It had all started with the impromptu killings of the popular faces from the mainstream pureblood community, a faction that constituted heavily amongst the supporters of Voldemort's regime. They weren't death eaters, but they supported the dark lord's mind set and his ideals. After the death of the dark lord, it had taken some years but the pureblood community had finally taken hold of the main nerve of the British magical society, and brought it back to square one. A place were muggleborns were treated like dirt, and blood politics soared at an all-time high.

Ragnarok had no family, no connections, no existing records. It began as a set of mass-killings amongst the pureblood community, and then slowly the man behind the mask made his move. With a single spell, he levelled the edifice previously known as the Ministry of Magic, and attracted the attention of the ICW. There were no ideals, no wants, only a one-track mind that was wanting to watch the world burn.

And the world did burn. The wizard, during moments in battle, shifted into a fearsome creature of antiquity, a magical crossbreed between a Nundu and a dire wolf, a creature that Albus Dumbledore recognized as the Amarok, also known as the Hell-hound- A creature of power beyond imagination, almost as large as a dragon in size with three metallic tails that devastated anything and everything that attracted its attention. A psychopath with a devilish animagus form, the new dark God of the modern civilization.

Ragnarok.

"You shall never get it, not until my dying breath…" Albus Dumbledore gritted his teeth, as his fingers tightened around the elder wand, the antique artefact magnifying his own power by several times, but apparently, not enough to match up with Ragnarok.

"Then it is your time to die…" Ragnarok snarled, as he sent a powerful burst of raw magic into the power struggle, making Dumbledore struggle to stand at his place and not get thrown away. His mad eyes glinted and then suddenly, he vanished from his spot and appeared before Dumbledore- the entire thing so magically fast that even apparation seemed way too slow compared to that, and held Dumbledore's right hand, before twisting it, breaking his bone and snatching the elder wand away. The old man cried in pain, as Ragnarok choked him by the neck, before apparating away with him, only to reappear at the top of the building.

"You might kill me now," Dumbledore coughed, splattering blood out of his mouth, as he tried to get up slowly, the magical struggle having taxed him more than he had believed, "but you will never be able to get what you came for. Miss Granger will see to that…"

"Ah, yes, of course," The man smiled, "Hermione Granger. Sent to destroy the Time Chamber, fighting against the ICW Guards themselves… Funny how you are fighting alongside them, and yet destroying what they want to protect…"

"I am doing what it necessary…" Albus seethed, before pulling his replacement wand out and firing a powerful curse at the man in front of him.

"Of course," Ragnarok smirked behind the mask, deflecting the curse with a wave of his hand, "Always what is _necessary._ " He _sneered._ "How desperate are you, destroying the most priceless artefact, only because you _thought_ it would stop me…" He laughed out mirthlessly, "Yes, descendant of Aldor, you cannot stop me now, and you cannot stop me from becoming a _God…"_

Albus gnashed his teeth. "You will never win, Ragnarok. You will never. You might have won it here, but you will never be able to win it back in time… I have _guaranteed_ it."

The other man played with the mythical wand, while considering the old man's argument. "Are you so sure, Albus Dumbledore? Are you so sure? Do you think that the last Peverell can do what you couldn't?" His eyes glinted madly.

"Yes." Albus defended defiantly, trying to hold up his wand, but knowing that it was no use. "He will fight you, and he will defeat you."

"How _touching!_ Sacrificing your own reality so that the world can be intact, that is what you are trying to achieve, aren't you, _Albus"?_

"I will achieve…" Albus defended.

Ragnarok smiled. "You will try, and you will fail, all over again. You think that your precious Boy-who-lived will be able to stop me…"

"Harry Potter _will_ stop you…" Albus Dumbledore returned defiantly.

" _Really?_ The same Harry Potter who lost his mind screaming in Azkaban until he died? _That Harry Potter?"_ For the first time, Ragnarok stood still, before his left hand moved _up…._ He took one last step towards Albus Dumbledore who stared at him with disbelief….

"Do you _still_ think that _Harry Potter_ can really stop _me?"_ His smile widened, as it slowly turned feral, the mad glint in his eyes increasing as his lips slowly widened as he uttered the words Albus Dumbledore would ever hear…

" _Avada Kedavra!"_

* * *

 **Year 1995…**

 **Two months later into the summer…**

"Everbero! Reducto!"

The dual combination of spells shot towards Moody who hastily erected a shield between himself and the oncoming attack, before throwing out a couple of severing hexes at Harry who dodged out of the way, before flinging another bludgeoner. Moody hit the ground with his staff, creating a seismic wave attack, making Harry lose his balance and fall down, but not before he summoned Moody's fake leg, making the man fall down alongside him.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry thought, banishing the other man's staff away from him. Standing up, he held his wand at the other man's throat and urged, "Yield?"

"Good work Potter." Moody panted, as Harry held out an arm for the other man to stand up. "I must say, acceptable progress considering that you have only been practicing for a month."

"Thank you, Alastor." Harry returned. After a couple of sessions training with the veteran auror, they had come on a first-name basis, and the training sessions had turned much more gruesome and ugly, with Harry ending up having to clean up and take replenishing potions after Moody swept the floor with him. This was the first time that he had gotten the better of the other man.

"Well, I suppose it is time, after all, I am only a cripple. It's almost pathetic that it took you so much of training to win one against me."

Harry scowled.

Moody winked, and took out his hip-flask, before taking a sip from it. "See you next session."

"Wait Alastor!"

Alastor stopped and turned back. "Potter?"

"I am training," Harry began, "and I am training hard, both in defence as well as political sessions with Sirius and Miss Vance, but I am not really… you know, contributing to the situation… All this training, it isn't really, you know, making a difference out there…"

"Let me understand this," Moody frowned, "you want to go and beat up death eaters left and right out there. Am I right?"

Harry shrugged.

"Understand this, boy, I did not train you to become this overpowered Gryffindor that wants to be at the centre of the fight every single time. Your job, out there, is simply to make a difference to the existing fight, not add another wand to the Order's forces."

"Then… how?"

"Use the thing between your ears. In less than two weeks, you will be leaving for Hogwarts. Think about it." Moody returned, before giving him an odd look before leaving the room.

* * *

 **Back at Hogwarts…**

"I hope I have made it clear what I want you to do, Severus. Time is of the essence."

Severus Snape stared coldly at the bright blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. "Yes," He replied finally, before nodding curtly as he turned around, his cloak billowing in its his own characteristic style, as Albus let out a long sigh and walked back to his chair. It had been a long day, and his exertions and recent _adventures_ were taking quite a toll on him. The summer was almost at an end, and if he had heard things right, then it would mark a start to a year of prolonged suffering for his students, since Cornelius was adamant on sending his senior undersecretary Dolores Umbridge to Hogwarts as the Ministry-appointed Defence against the Dark Arts Professor this oncoming term. Merlin knew that the woman barely knew the right end of the wand, forget teaching a subject like Defence, especially to those appearing for their OWL examinations. He knew Cornelius was doing all of this, just because he _thought_ that the return of Voldemort was simply a lie.

 _I wonder how many people have to suffer before he realises that it had always been the truth._

One thing was clear. The woman wasn't coming to teach Defence. Rather, if anything, she would try to prohibit the DADA instruction completely if she could. Rumours about a new Ministry-approved curriculum had reached his ears, and he prayed to the powers that be that it wouldn't be revealed as the truth.

 _Harry Potter has to be trained, whether Fudge likes it or not. Seems like an interesting year ahead…_

His flow of thoughts cut short as he felt a powerful influx of energy tearing through the subtler wards of Hogwarts- wards that had never been triggered in his entire lifetime…

 _Reality Distortion…. Merlin…._

 _Could the day get any worse?_

He stood up frantically, as he put his arm out, Fawkes flying towards him automatically, and the two disappeared in a flash of flames, leaving the empty office behind.

He reappeared in a flash of flames on the third floor corridor, right in the very chamber, where, around four years ago, the Mirror of Erised was kept, as a trap for Quirrel and Voldemort…. A pocket dimension created out of spatial expansion magic, created for the sole purpose of setting up the gauntlet of traps to capture Quirrel and Voldemort, or at least delay him. The fact that some kind of _reality distortion_ had occurred inside such a pocket dimension was simply beyond him.

The entire place stood in flames, burning outright. The walls, the carpet, and even the floor was crisscrossed by what seemed to be the aftermath of some kind of energy waves, lashing its way outward. In the centre of the chamber, however, was a figure. A woman, if he could discern it properly. He could see the bushy brown hair, and the female figure, dressed in robes that seemed a little out of place. Importantly, there was blood oozing out of her, or that was what it seemed.

 _What is going on?_

He quickly waved his wand, putting out the fires, before rushing towards the fallen woman, as he slowly pulled her over, his eyes dilated with disbelief as his mind registered who it was he was seeing in front of him. A broken fragment of a long blade was stuck into a side of her abdomen, as blood oozed out of it, while scars crisscrossed her face. The hair, which was once completely bushy, now seemed slightly tamed, and the facial features, which Dumbledore remembered, belonged to a sixteen-year-old girl, had shifted into a more feminine, womanly countenance. Albus Dumbledore stared, completely stupefied at the injured, unconscious body of an adult Hermione Granger.

His wand instantly springing to action, he lifted the lithe body upward while a transparent dome materialised all around her, holding her steady inside it. His other hand reached out to his phoenix who trilled softly before bursting into flames, transporting the two of them to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

"What is going on?" Poppy Pomfrey almost screeched out, as a huge burst of flames attracted her attention across the medical wing. Finding the Headmaster appearing, with what seemed to be an injured person held inside a protective barrier, she quickly darted towards them, anxious to know what had just perspired.

"What is- who is that, Albus?" She asked.

"Questions later, Poppy. She needs immediate treatment." Dumbledore replied hastily, as he slowly levitated the fallen woman over to the closest bed and cancelled the shield, making her condition open to be seen, with the blade impaling her abdomen.

That shut Poppy up.

After what seemed like an anxious twenty minutes, the woman, who for some reason, reminded Poppy heavily of a certain muggleborn student, was now sleeping peacefully on the hospital bed. The blade had been removed, and all traces of the magical poison had been cleansed off from her body.

"It was a close call, Albus. She had been in contact with that poison for far too long. Any more and it would damage her magical core permanently. As it is, it will be some time before the woman can actively use magic without straining herself." Poppy replied finally, staring at her patient who had been injected with several blood-replenishing potions and two vials of revitalizing elixir. "Her will must be exceptional to have had contact with the poison, suffer the blood loss and still survive."

"Well she has always been headstrong…" muttered Dumbledore, stroking his beard, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"Who is she, Albus?"

Albus paused, considering the question. "I suppose we should just let her wake up, and answer it herself."

"But why couldn't-"

"Please, Poppy."

Poppy did not counter back.

Albus hummed. "I am sure that we are awaiting a very illuminating conversation after she wakes up, Poppy. As of now, her presence is a Hogwarts secret." He replied, staring at her meaningfully.

Poppy swallowed.

"I… understand, Headmaster."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

* * *

 **A day later…**

" _Please Hermione, you have to help me… you know that there is no other way…"_

 _Hermione looked at her, half-intimidated and half-agitated. What Daphne was asking was-_

" _Please, Hermione… Please, you know the truth… you know he will die… Please, I beg you, they will kill him..." Daphne cried bitterly, holding onto Hermione's robes tightly._

 _Hermione stepped back in hesitation, as she looked at the other girl, the desperation clouding the other girl's eyes. A soul wrenching shriek filled the atmosphere around them as Hermione recoiled back in horror._

" _Was that…?"_

 _It was unbelievable._

" _Please Hermione…"_

 _The air had turned cold, and she could see her breath. The Dementors must be closing in, she thought. She glanced at the woman in front of her, her own morals at war with her own beliefs…._

 _The horde of dementors hovered in front of them, as she pulled the other girl away, casting her Patronus to drive the dementors apart, when she heard the shouts-_

" _There's her! FIRE!"_

" _NO, wait-"_

" _AVADA-"_

" _NOOOOO!"_

Hermione woke up with a start, her whole body perspiring as she felt her heart palpitating strongly. Her right arm moved up automatically to her breast, intrinsically trying to calm her down. As her memories and her consciousness returned to her, she realized that she was lying down on a very familiar bed, and strangely, the sharp pang of pain at her abdominal region was missing. Her hand went down, and found a slight pain there, but there was no bloodied blade impaling her through. The little tinge of pain assured her that she was alive, and with that, came another overwhelming realization.

 _It worked! It bloody worked!_

Her hands searched her robes, and quickly spotted her wand inside on one of the pockets. It wasn't her original wand, but a good replacement. Her original wand had been destroyed years ago in a fight. She looked around, before settling with the fact that she was at Hogwarts- a Hogwarts free from the destruction she remembered. With that, another question of grave importance came to her.

 _By Merlin, when am I?_

A sound of rushing was heard, as Hermione tried to raise her wand in a defensive stance. She could feel herself as still weak, but stronger than her condition before the event. In any event, this was Hogwarts, and untarnished by the war, she tried to pacify herself.

"Please control yourself," came a very, very familiar voice that couldn't help but raise the hairs on her back. The air near her simmered as the outline of Albus Dumbledore materialised into view. "I must say, this is most… surprising."

"Professor Dumbledore." Hermione replied, with a touch of defiance in her voice.

"Miss Granger. If I am not wrong, and from the future, if I am not wrong about that either."

Hermione nodded hesitantly. Something was wrong. Dumbledore seemed too… unassuming about it all, almost as if meeting a time-traveller was something utterly _pedestrian._ Then she remembered…

"You received the message."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"You," Hermione paused, "I mean, the _you_ from my time, told me about sending some kind of message to yourself back in time… I assume you have already got it."

"Yes." Dumbledore replied finally. "It was… interesting."

Hermione laughed mirthlessly. "Which year is it?"

"1995."

Hermione frowned. She had tried to return back before Voldemort had been reborn. It would help a lot with the events surrounding Ragnarok. Now however….

"Is something wrong, Miss Granger?"

"I arrived a little too late. I had intended to travel back to 1993."

"Oh."

Hermione stayed silent.

"I believe you have the most interesting story to tell? Miss Granger? Assuming of course, that you travelled so far back in time, for some reason…"

"Yes," Hermione returned, "to prevent you from making the same mistake." She remarked coldly.

The Headmaster processed her biting remark. It was clear, first from the letter itself, and now from Miss Granger's behaviour, that he had certainly messed things up big time in the future…

"I am all ears, but I think we should move this conversation to my office, provided of course if you are willing to do so, and your health permits."

Hermione considered it. It was imminent. "I will do it now, but I am not sure if I can walk and-"

"Very well…" sighed the old Headmaster, before whipping his wand, and casting a powerful privacy dome all around them. "We can continue here…"

Hermione stared at the Headmaster primly.

* * *

"So let me get this straight…in your time, the magical world is destroyed and it is because of this wizard who can transform into Amarok?"

"Yes."

"But how? I mean, all modesty aside, with me living as you said, and with Harry-" He stopped midway, as he spotted her eyes getting dilated.

"What happened to Harry Potter?" He asked, fearing that he might not like the answer.

"Hermione swallowed. "I suppose I should just begin it right from the beginning then…"

Dumbledore groaned mentally. This was going to be a long day.

"Voldemort, well he didn't really begin his attacks until the sixth year, in my timeline, at least not openly. Me, Harry and several other students had formed a defence organization, to study for OWLS and also to prepare for Voldemort." Hermione continued, with a touch of defiance in her voice. "Later at the end of the year, Sirius died and you and Harry had a huge row, with Harry refusing to be a part of your Order and do things his way…"

"His way?" Dumbledore urged, mentally making notes out of the facts.

Hermione frowned. "You refused to meet him, and continuously avoided Harry in our fifth year-" Dumbledore widened his eyes but refused to comment- "and after Sirius's death, you still refused to allow Harry to fight or train him actively, and he left Hogwarts, to live at Black Home and train himself. Our entire sixth year was spent with Harry picking out fights with the Death eaters and preventing the attacks, and the Order trying to find him instead of actually doing something about Voldemort."

Dumbledore flushed. It did seem to be a folly from her narration.

"The worst thing was that I," Hermione continued with a touch of self-loathing in her voice, "—helped you to find Harry, though he escaped every single time, and I am proud of him for that." She ended with a touch of pride in her voice.

"Then?" Dumbledore urged.

"I suppose there is no point hiding it from you, but Voldemort created horcruxes, and Harry discovered it independently by some way. You were away from the school most of the time in sixth year, hunting for horcruxes, and Harry was doing the same by himself, alongside-" Hermione paused, not sure if she should mention it, "-Daphne Greengrass."

"Miss Greengrass of Slytherin House? But her parents were the dark lord's supporters in the last war."

Hermione refused to answer anything.

"What happened then?"

Hermione sighed. "Voldemort took over the Ministry of Magic, and even tried to kill you by sending a group of death eaters into Hogwarts."—Dumbledore turned a little white-"Things went wrong and professor Snape died in the battle, along with Ginny Weasley and many others. Later on, Voldemort attacked Hogwarts with his entire army, and you faced him, and-" She paused, "—he almost killed you in the process."

Dumbledore had gone deathly silent now.

"Harry came to Hogwarts, alongside his little army, and we all joined him in the fight. It was a long-drawn battle, but overall, Voldemort died at his hands, and a lot of the Death eaters surrendered knowing Harry and his mode of fighting."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Dumbledore urged.

"Harry- he had changed. He had resorted to using the dark arts in battle, and—well, Sirius's death had affected him in a bad way. Even Moody was hesitant to fight against Harry and try bringing him back to Hogwarts, as were your orders."

Dumbledore did not reply.

"After the battle, things began to slowly turn normal. I got recruited as a hit-witch for my position as a war-hero and Ron, well he was working with his brothers- Harry had married Daphne and they did not have much contact with you, that the problems began."

"What kind of problems?"

"Fights. There were a lot of fights. Fights involving Harry Potter and the pureblood fraternity, both Light and Dark aside. The Daily Prophet painted him as a Dark wizard and Fudge, well, Fudge was all for putting him in prison. There were some _incidents,_ and Harry and Daphne were captured and sent to Azkaban."

 _What?_

Hermione was almost on the verge of tears now. "they tortured him, tortured him night and day, and tortured her too. The Wizengamot didn't do anything to prevent it, nor did you, nor did the people. Everyone called him a dark wizard, while Malfoy and his cohorts reigned in the Wizengamot while you stood silent.." Hermione was openly crying now. "I begged you time and time again about him, but you did not do anything, and Harry- Daphne was killed in an escape attempt and Harry, he went insane from the tortures and was flung through the Veil."

Dumbledore tried hard to stop a tear from escaping.

Hermione consoled herself. "Around two years later, there were some random killings among the Pureblood fraternity. The evidence showed that the deaths were caused by some kind of…. Beast, who was rampaging throughout the country, killing people right and left. The hit-wizard forces and Auror regiments were sent to capture, and we found him-"

"Him?" Dumbledore stressed.

"Ragnarok." Hermione spoke out. "The man, he was killing people with his bare hands and using magic the likes of which no one had ever seen. He always had this… metallic mask and body outfit, and even his voice was magically changed, so we don't know properly if it's a he or a she…. However, he could change into this great mythical wolf- Amarok, as the _you_ from my time said, and he was unstoppable."

Dumbledore sighed.

"he destroyed the Ministry, he destroyed Hogwarts, he destroyed the ICW, and then... he was coming for this time chamber hidden in the ICW."

"That doesn't explain why you are here, instead." Dumbledore pointed out.

"The soldiers were fighting Ragnarok outside. _You_ ordered me to go in and destroy the machine, because you feared that there was no stopping Him. I fought the ICW Guards-"

"I assume that is where you got your wounds from-"

"yes, that, but before I could properly perform the charms, it was too late, and so I did all I could-!"

"And what was that?"

"Set up a time-dilation rune, enough to allow myself to travel back and warn about the impending Doom, and _also stop Harry from getting killed._ I set up an explosive rune combination, powerful enough to destroy it after my passage was done."

"I… see." Dumbledore replied at last, his wand up in his hand. "However, I am not sure what should be done in regards to you, since you are effectively, breaking the rules of the timeline…" He frowned.

Hermione smirked. "I knew you would say that."

"You took precautions…"

Hermione did not reply.

Dumbledore sighed. "Then again, the future isn't what I wanted it to, and it has been so, due to my own mistakes. So," he paused, "Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Granger, though I suppose you cannot live in this timeline with your original name and face."

Hermione smirked. "I have always wanted to have a try at teaching Defence, after seeing Harry do it in fifth year."

Dumbledore frowned slightly. "Yes, I suppose you should at least do better than the Ministry-appointed DADA instructor-"

"Oh please, that hag knows nothing-"

"—could perform." Dumbledore ended his statement.

Hermione pulled out a little locket from her robes. "This is an invention from the future, which gives a permanent glamour, and is immune to the standard revealing charm." She held out the locket, before putting it over her neck, and instantly, her hairs turned into a shade of chestnut red, and no longer bushy, while her cheekbones raised up a little. It wasn't much but it was enough to keep her from being recognized.

"That's a useful little invention." Dumbledore remarked.

"Thanks, I invented it myself in my seventh year." Hermione replied with a touch of pride in her voice.

"Well, in that case, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Miss-"

"Watson. Emma Watson."

"Right."


	5. Chapter 5 : It begins

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _Hermione pulled out a little locket from her robes. "This is an invention from the future, which gives a permanent glamour, and is immune to the standard revealing charm." She held out the locket, before putting it over her neck, and instantly, her hairs turned into a shade of chestnut red, and no longer bushy, while her cheekbones raised up a little. It wasn't much but it was enough to keep her from being recognized._

 _"That's a useful little invention." Dumbledore remarked._

 _"Thanks, I invented it myself in my seventh year." Hermione replied with a touch of pride in her voice._

 _"Well, in that case, welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Miss-"_

 _"Watson. Emma Watson."_

 _"Right."_

* * *

 **September 1, 1995.**

The platform of Nine and Three Quarters was brimming with people as a huge chunk of Magical Britain's population had concentrated up there to see their kids off for another long year at Hogwarts. The gold and scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express let out a thin and clear whistle, letting out a huge array of white smoke out into the air. Students were busy, transporting their trunks from the platform into the compartment rackets, and returning back for a final goodbye to their loved ones, knowing that it would be some time before they would meet them again.

Harry Potter walked towards the Express, his mind feeling the invisible chunks of gold on his left hand. The signet rings of the Potter and Black family, signifying that he was now, completely an adult and in charge of the fortune and properties of both families. The summer had included a private journey to Gringotts with Bill Weasley, under secret but clear orders from Dumbledore himself, where he had undergone the inheritance rituals and taken up the mantle of the head of either family. Sirius had invited him for a booze that night, leading to some memorable incidents afterward.

Being the Head of two families had brought more workload. For one, he had had spent an awful lot of time with Sirius, learning about the ways of Lords and the nobles, something that was necessary considering that he was essentially Lord Black now. While the Potters were equally ancient, their decision to not be a part of the Wizengamot made it unnecessary for a Lord Potter to learn those traditions. However, to each his own…

Another thing that had come with the inheritance were the family library. While the main Potter library had been demolished with the death of Fleamont and Euphemia at the hands of the Death eaters, a significant portion of it had been recovered from the copies in the Gringotts vault. The Black family library though, it was another thing altogether.

It was one thing to cast a bone-breaker spell and call it playing with powerful curses. The breadth of the true dark arts was something that Harry was now slowly discovering as he devoured tomes at leisure, sitting in the Black library. There was a reason why the dark arts were so feared, and the more he studied, the more he understood why people behaved the way they did, whenever Voldemort's name was mentioned.

 _And the man had been toying with the dark arts for almost seventy years…_

Moody's explanation now made more sense to him. There was after all, a reason why death eaters made wonderful DADA instructors. Only a student of the dark arts would understand how terribly easy it was for a dark arts practitioner to play with those fidgeting with those _Light spells._

 _It was a good idea not to share with Dumbledore about my studies. Moody was right. He would not take it nicely._

Dumbledore.

The old man was an enigma to him. He had given Harry the offer of training, and yet, his _trainer_ didn't seem to agree with Dumbledore's ideals. Harry felt sure that in the near future, he would have to keep his spell choices within a standard limit, keeping in mind that his spell choices might get reported, causing even more complications.

 _Damn!_

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" He returned, spotting Hermione walk next to him.

"All good?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"People aren't going to take it well, you know, after all those articles in the Prophet."

Harry almost sneered. It came naturally to him. "Let them. I am tired of trying to figure them out anyway." He narrowed his eyes as he felt a slight amount of disdain about the students at Hogwarts, knowing very well that this year could be as well, a return of the previous year.

 _Only this time, I won't allow anyone to walk over me. For the first time in my life, I am Harry fucking Potter._

Sirius had been adamant about going to the station, but Harry had put his foot on the issue, leaving no space for the older man to try argue over the matter. Fudge had gone to extraordinary lengths to try discredit him over the Triwizard and Voldemort issue, even declaring the random attacks on the wizarding populous to be done by the _mass-murderer Sirius Black._ Sirius had gifted Harry a communication-mirror, which could be used to communicate with the older man while Harry was at Hogwarts.

 _Now only if I can manage to pass an entire year without another death or catastrophic event. Then again, considering my luck…._

 _Nah…_

He turned behind, watching Ron walking with the rest of the Weasleys, fumbling with their trunks and everything, while Harry walked up onto the train, and helped Hermione with her trunk. While he had made peace with both of his friends over the disappointments for the summer, he still kept a little distance from Ron, somehow not being able to forgive the other boy's betrayal the previous year. As it was, with all the lessons and the training he had undergone, and seeing how Ron spent his days idling away with gossiping about Quidditch or chess or girls, he began to slowly understand how their lives were different. He couldn't even relate to the other boy now, and only Hermione had some form of tentative friendship with him, and shared his interest in learning magic, if only from an academic perspective.

There was one other thing though. Hermione was slowly learning the cruel reality of the world outside her books, the reservation system for the Pureblood community, the negligence and the bigotry prevalent in the magical world, the way in which the Ministry controlled all information through a dominant news agency that existed to sell itself. It was turning her much more… speculative and broad-minded about the true nature and complexities of the world around them.

 _Good._

He stepped inside the compartment, choosing the spot next to the window, while Hermione sat opposite him on the other side. Soon enough, Ron and Ginny entered the compartment, and took the seats. The twins, as always, had left to find their friend Lee Jordan. Ron went over to sit beside Harry as Ginny, frowning slightly, went over to sit with Hermione.

"Can I sit here?"

The new voice distracted Harry. The voice was very… feminine and cool, with an almost disembodied feel to it. He turned his head slightly to see a girl, wearing radish-earrings and huge butterfly-shaped glasses, if they were glasses in the first place. She held a magazine in one hand while pulling her trunk with the others.

"Luna—ah!" Ginny remarked, standing up and helping her with the trunk. She pushed her own belongings to a side, creating space for the new girl to sit upon. "Guys, this is my friend Luna Lovegood."

"Looney?" Ron blustered, getting a scowl from Ginny and Hermione in unison.

"It's Luna." The girl exclaimed sadly. "Loon—ah," she spelt out, as if talking to a child, except that her voice was a lot less condescending. "Most people have trouble pronouncing it." The way she said it, it was difficult to understand if she was just stating a fact, or speaking sarcastically.

Harry and Hermione grinned, while Ron turned a little red.

"I am Harry," Harry introduced, but the girl- Luna, looked at him with a vacant expression on her face, and replied, "I know you, Harry Potter. My father and I believe in you, though most people will take a lifetime to do the same."

"Oh-kay!" Harry returned, not sure how to talk to this… different girl. He was sure that he had never met her before, though. Said girl hadn't waited for a reply, and had begun to read her magazine, which was held in reverse, meticulously.

 _Strange._

"Hey Harry, want to play exploding snap?" Ron offered. Hermione rolled her eyes.

 _Might as well._

* * *

 **Meanwhile at Hogwarts…**

"Yes, Cornelius, I completely understand, but I cannot in good faith, accept your recommendations for the DADA instructor."

"This is unacceptable, Dumbledore, you are taking your powers as the Headmaster for granted. The new Amendment states that-" Fudge began pompously.

"I know what it says!" Dumbledore continued tiredly, but Fudge ignored him- "—in case you cannot find a teacher before the term-"

"which I did-"

"—the Ministry has the right to-wait," Fudge croaked, "—what do you mean you did?"

"I meant that I have indeed found a professor for the subject, and term hasn't started, and hence-" Dumbledore began, "—your services are no longer required."

"But—but—who is this person? What are his qualifications?"

"Her." The Headmaster corrected. "And the last time I checked, I am not bound to give out such details to the Ministry. The professor's personal information is not subject to Ministry scrutiny."

"But-but—Senior Undersecretary Umbridge is ready to take the Defence position. What is the necessity for this new… appointment?" Fudge gasped.

"The school records for Madam Umbridge state that she never passed her DADA NEWT, forget the shining Outstandings in the subject that you claim she has. I cannot, in clear conscience, choose her over my own choice who has both the verified degrees and the skill to take over the position." Dumbledore explained calmly.

"This- this is an outrage, Dumbledore." Fudge admonished, "I am the Minister of Magic and you cannot-"

"I am suddenly busy at the moment, Cornelius. May we speak of this issue later?" Without waiting for the reply, Dumbledore closed the Floo.

 _Irritating man. Why I let him run things is beyond me…_

"It seems that the Minister isn't pleased with the turn of events." Minerva Mcgonagall spoke softly. The woman had been a silent observer throughout the Floo call.

"Yes." Dumbledore replied with a long suffering sigh. "How is Miss… Watson dealing with things?"

Minerva pursed her lips. The new addition to the school staff was… _interesting._ The woman couldn't be more than thirty, and Minerva had never taught any 'Emma Watson' during her career of over forty years. Of course, the Headmaster had claimed that the woman had acquired her degrees from foreign institutions, and had dropped the subject casually. However, there was _something strange_ about the woman, a form of _familiarity_ that she couldn't place, and it made her curious. Who was this… apparently muggleborn woman, who knew Albus Dumbledore so personally and yet, had never attended Hogwarts?

"Miss Watson is… doing well with the staff, and Filius has taken an instant liking for her, since she seems to have a penchant for experimentation with Charms. She also seems quite _familiar_ with Hogwarts' educational procedures."

Dumbledore nodded absently.

"Things are going to be difficult this year, Minerva, with trouble stirring at the edges of the country."

"You think he will attack soon?" Minerva asked, fearing the answer.

"Not too soon, but soon enough. Also, I want you to give some extra attention to young Mister Potter."

"Potter?"

"Yes, I am afraid with Cornelius trying to interfere at Hogwarts, and Tom's forces on the rise, it is time for Harry to prepare for the impeding war."

Minerva scowled. "Potter is still a boy. Granted, he has done several heroic services to the school over the past years, but he is still a child."

"Tom wouldn't care about that, Minerva. He has been trying to kill him every year, and I won't be there to protect him every time."

Minerva narrowed her eyes.

"I am sure you will notice a change in his behaviour, this year, Minerva. I just need you to help him hone his new found abilities." The old man stated, "maybe he could be a participant for your own unique field of study."

"You mean-"

Dumbledore's moustache quivered. "Well, his father was one, and so is his Godfather. I am pretty sure that being an animagus is something the boy secretly fancies. Maybe he is even working on it, with Miss Granger's help, if I am correct."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "The girl is too brilliant for her own good."

"You have no idea how right you are…" He commented absently. Glancing back at her, he continued, "—teaching him to become an animagus could be a good asset, Minerva. It will grant you a clear picture of his skills."

"And you want to know them…."

"It is essential, Minerva, you know it."

The stern professor did not counter back.

"With so much happening, I would have thought that you would make him a Prefect. I never understood your reasoning behind making Weasley a-"

"Everyone deserves a little spotlight in their lives, Minerva, and I think it will do the boy good."

"But there are others-"

"-we have discussed on this, previously, Minerva. Time is of the essential, and I know I may not share everything, but it is for a reason."

Minerva Mcgonagall stood up straight. "Will that be all, Headmaster?"  
She asked, a little coldness in her voice.

"That will be all, Professor Mcgonagall."

* * *

 **Back on the train…**

Ron and Hermione had left for the Prefect's compartment, to have their first-ever Prefect's meeting, where they were apparently, being told about their responsibilities. Ginny and Luna had been busy discussing some private matters, and Harry, feeling a little out of place, had decided to take a stroll out into the main corridor. Despite being an express, the interior of the train was very much resembling a corridor with rooms on either side of it. A very long corridor.

 _Wonder what Ron and Hermione are doing._

A part of him felt bad about not being selected as the Prefect. He wasn't arrogant or anything, but he knew that he had done a lot of things for the school in the past years, certainly more than anyone else he could mention. Hermione deserved her badge, she knew more rules than the professors themselves, and her performance had always been top-notch. Harry had been somewhat average, except in Defence, while Ron and Seamus barely scratched the passing mark every single time.

 _I faced Quirrel._

 _I faced the basilisk._

 _I fought off the Dementors._

 _I fought the dragon._

 _I won the Triwizard._

 _I fought off Voldemort and lived._

 _It should have been me. Then again, what would I really do with the Prefect badge in the first place?_

He considered it. He didn't want to be a Prefect. He didn't want to be the one enforcing rules. Merlin knew he had broken more rules than the entire Gryffindor House had done in the last couple of years. The thought brought a little smile of nostalgia on his lips. Then why was he feeling so… jealous? Was it the badge?

No. He was feeling resentful that _Ron of all people_ had been picked over him. He didn't want the badge in the first place. He had tons to study, and with the war coming, there was so much to do.

 _Ridiculous._

Chastising himself over his little immature behaviour, he walked towards the washrooms, when he heard a couple of voices coming out of the compartment just next to him.

"Watch it Greengrass, the dark lord wouldn't be too tolerant about traitors. Do as I say or else, you will suffer, like your sister did, if you understand what I mean."

It was Malfoy, and if what he assumed was right, he had just threatened someone- Greengrass- to support Voldemort, or something along the lines. So that meant that there must be some kind of… internal issues within Slytherin house. There were people in there who didn't want the death eaters to win.

 _Like Snape. For all his follies, he is fighting against Voldemort. And now, this- Greengrass._

The door creaked, as Harry heard footsteps—people were coming out, and he did the only thing he could in such a situation. He tapped his head gently with his wand and whispered, "Celare…"

A cool feeling permeated through his self as the disillusionment charm took place, camouflaging him completely. It wasn't as good as the invisibility spell, but the latter was much more taxing to manage. As it was, Malfoy wasn't in his most paranoid mood, and hardly noticed the slight shimmer in the air as he passed by, uncaring and ignorant of the fact that he had been watched and heard. The two henchmen—Crabbe and Goyle walked past him next, but no one followed after that.

Harry waited.

No one walked out.

He considered moving into the room, but decided against it. There was no surety about who he would find inside. Pondering over the thought, he reached for his wand, when a sharp, feminine voice took him off-guard.

"Are you still waiting in hope to eavesdrop some more?"

Had this been the previous year, he would have jumped out, and made some kind of sound. However, training with Moody and those meditation exercises had been him much calmer than he was previously. Besides, he had been able to control his emotions much more easily than he could do the previous year.

Harry looked around, but found no one. His wand went up in an attempt to recast the disillusionment charm to maximum power when the feminine voice spoke again.

"For Morgana's sake, come in or fuck off. Don't just stand there pretending to not exist."

 _Damn! She must have had proximity wards set up outside her compartment._

Cancelling the charm, he walked into the compartment, his wand held tightly in his hand, and a spell ready on his lips. Inside however, there was no sudden attacking spell being hurled at him, but a lone girl standing, with her hands on her hips in an interrogative fashion. She had raven-black hair, and icy blue eyes. Her face, a little pointed with a sharp nose, made for a very beautiful countenance. Dressed in Slytherin Green robes, a wand holster on the arm, she stared at him with an annoyed expression on her face.

 _Damn! She is beautiful._

"Potter!" The girl returned harshly. "What is the famous golden boy doing, eavesdropping on a slimy Slytherin?" The cutting remarks and the sharp tone lined with sarcasm were very distinct.

"I, ahem, I heard Malfoy threatening you and-"

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently, as her hand moved in a jerk as her wand slipped in between her fingers, "What did you hear?" Harry could even hear the urgency in her voice.

"He was threatening you to do something, or somewhat like that, so I, well-" Harry gasped for words, but couldn't find them. Why exactly had he stopped to eavesdrop again?

"And why did you feel to do so? Golden Gryffindor come to save the damsel for distress?"

Harry winced. Damn this girl had biting remarks.

"Listen," he tried, "I just felt that he was up to no good, and-"

"You thought to be the hero and save me from the big, bad Malfoy brat?"

Harry scowled. "Listen, we cannot have a conversation if you continue to take offence out of every single word that comes out of my mouth."

She raised an eyebrow. "Who said I wanted a conversation in the first place?" She pointed at the door. "Please, carry on with your grandiose life and let me be at peace."

This time Harry raised an eyebrow. Who did she think she was? Deciding to end the pointless argument, he simply sighed and turned away towards the door. He was just about to leave when, he stopped, and still facing the door, he suddenly replied, "I didn't stop to be a hero. I just thought that something might be wrong, and no, I don't consider Slytherins as slimy." Without waiting for a reply, he walked out.

 _Strange girl._

Another thought, similar but completely unrelated, came to his mind.

 _But beautiful._

* * *

He found his way back to his own compartment and found Neville seated in his place, talking to Ginny and Luna. Hermione and Ron had returned, and were looking at him strangely.

"Where were you, mate?" Ron asked.

"Uh, washroom."

"I looked for you, even in the washrooms. You weren't there." Ron stressed.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You checked every one of them? Seriously Ron, that's just overdo. It's not you, it's me." Harry returned, making Ron flush while Neville guffawed. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Where were you, Harry?" Hermione questioned.

"Just taking a stroll," Harry returned, "after I went to the washroom." He tilted his head. "Hey Neville, how are you?" He hoped it would change the topic of discussion.

Neville shrugged. "I went to the Amazon rainforests with my Gran. How about you?"

"I had an interesting summer too," Harry returned, remembering the events of the past summer, the training, the talks about family, the strangely wise voice in his head…

"Harry?"

He glanced at Hermione. "yes?"

"Where did you go alone? You know we need to be more… precautious, after what is happening all around." Her voice was filled with anxiety and worry.

"I am good, Hermione." Harry replied back softly. Hermione, for all her follies, did care a hell lot about him, even more since the summer.

"Malfoy came for his annual visit."

 _Ah, so he must have come after leaving her._

"Right."

"And the ferret has been made Prefect." Ron scowled. "He and that bitch Parkinson."

"Ronald, language." Hermione admonished. "He was showing off as usual, gloating over his new powers as Prefect and the usual."

"Oh."

"Apparently, Neville's plant, can send this stinky sap thing when it senses danger. Malfoy tried to snatch it, and the plant drenched them in stinky sap." Hermione returned, her eyes full of mirth.

"You should have seen his face, mate." Ron added, guffawing at the memory.

Neville flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't think it would do that."

"Tosh Neville, it was fun." Ginny added. Luna just seemed lost in her own little world.

* * *

 **Meanwhile, deep in a chamber inside the Department of Mysteries…**

The Mirror of Erised was once an effective instrument in the arts of exorcism, since ghosts and wraiths got caught up within their own desires, and ultimately got caught in the mirror. After centuries of such use, the concentration of the evil spirits and the desires had turned the mirror into a semi-sentient entity, which had developed a burning need to eat up the souls of any person in direct contact with it, by trapping them inside an illusion of their deepest desires. The Unspeakables had lent the mirror to Albus Dumbledore in 1991, after several inspections, and that too, because Dumbledore wanted it to capture the wraith of the dark lord. However, the objective had remained unfulfilled and the mirror had been returned back to the Department, where it had been stored in an isolated vault, a place layered by several wards aimed at reducing the mirror's ability to ensnare potential victims. Luckily, the Mirror had never even produced the slightest disturbance.

Except for now.

The silvery glass glowed with ethereal energies, as several waves of magical radiation sprang outward from within the mirror's surface, making the proximity sensors go frenzy. A team of Unspeakables came rushing in, only to see the strangest of sights.

The surface of the mirror was slowly cracking, and the shattered pieces falling off, and joining up the little whirlwind that had materialized out of nowhere in front of it. The Unspeakables tried their best to hinder it, but the wards all over the Vault, prevented them from casting any magic inside the vault. The ward for protection had become the cause of their fall. The whirlwind on the other hand, seemed to have gained some momentum and was now rising up, and they could see a human outline materialise within the whirlwind as the entire room shook because of the shock waves sent by the ongoing magical reaction.

"Get away! Get out of here!" The senior among them yelled, as the bunch of Unspeakables ushered out of the vault, and closed the main door, hoping to contain whatever it was inside, as they cast their most powerful locking charms and wards.

For a moment, everything seemed silent. Just like the calm before the storm.

The problem was, it was indeed the calm before the storm. Barely had a minute passed in anxious silence when-

WHAM!

A humongous force threw open the vault as the door was thrown off its hinges, the locks and wards shattering with the event. The shiny mirror inside was gone, and instead in its place, stood someone, or something- it was unclear but whoever it was, was adorned with some kind of metal plates all over its body.

And then suddenly, its head moved up, and everyone could see the electric blue eyes from within the mask, as the figure stood up, slowly moving its arms as it assumed a comfortable posture.

"When am I?" The figure spoke, its voice magically changed and amplified.

"1995." One of the Unspeakables returned, "but who are you?"

The figure's lips twisted into a sick smile.

* * *

 **#AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had this query in my mind from the reviews...so I suppose I will ask it here.** **What exactly is your reasoning behind the notion that 'Harry Potter is Ragnarok'?**


	6. Chapter 6 : Meetings and First Day

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _A humongous force threw open the vault as the door was thrown off its hinges, the locks and wards shattering with the event. The shiny mirror inside was gone, and instead in its place, stood someone, or something- it was unclear but whoever it was, was adorned with some kind of metal plates all over its body._

 _And then suddenly, its head moved up, and everyone could see the electric blue eyes from within the mask, as the figure stood up, slowly moving its arms as it assumed a comfortable posture._

 _"When am I?" The figure spoke, its voice magically changed and amplified._

 _"1995." One of the Unspeakables returned, "but who are you?"_

 _The figure's lips twisted into a sick smile._

* * *

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was filled with students and noise after many months, as the students attended the starting feast for the new scholastic term. The Sorting had just been over, and the feast was just about to end. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table with Neville sitting beside Harry on the other end, while Dean and Seamus sat opposite Ron. The twins had joined the Gryffindor chasers on the staff end of the table, and were busy with their own discussions.

"And now that we have all been fed and watered, let us welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, Professor Emma Watson." Said person stood up from the chair, as the entire Hall clapped for her. There were even a few wolf-whistles, but the thunderous applause overwhelmed them.

"Damn, she is beautiful, what do you think Hermione?" Ron muttered, his eyes glazing at the new Defence professor. Hermione slapped him at the back of his head, "That's our professor, you idiot."

"She is even younger than Aurora," Fred commented from the further end of the table.

"Yeah, Sinistra's got competition."

Said Astronomy professor, who could hear the little whispers very clearly, rolled her eyes.

Professor Watson sat down, as Professor Dumbledore continued, "to that effect, I have a few notices. There will be some changes made to the subject to make it a little more… practical, and I am sure your new DADA professor will inform you about it in time. I would also like to inform that our Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Mr. Rubeus Hagrid is currently unavailable and hence Professor Grubbly-Plank has agreed to return for another year to take the class."

Hermione looked at Harry meaningfully and Harry nodded slightly. Ron seemed oblivious and looked at Dumbledore who seemed to have settled down, and ordered everyone to be dismissed, since the students were all getting off the tables. Hermione jumped up, looking flustered.

"Ah, that felt good, I was starving," said Ron, who got up and stood beside Harry. "And now I think my dorm room bed is waiting for me." He let out a deep yawn.

"RON," Hermione cried out, scandalized, "We are the Prefects, we are supposed to show the first years where to go!"

"Oh yeah," said Ron, who had obviously forgotten. "Hey — hey you lot! Midgets!"

" _RON_!"

"Well, they are, they're titchy…"

"I know, but you can't call them midgets… First years!" Hermione called commandingly along the table. "This way, please!"

A group of new students walked shyly up the gap between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, all of them trying hard not to lead the group. They did indeed seem very small; Harry was sure he had not appeared that young when he had arrived here. The midgets were positively tiny. He could swear that some of them were not even eleven, and were only pretending to be. He grinned at them. A blond boy next to a little one, who he knew was Euan Abercrombie from the sorting, looked petrified, nudged Euan, and whispered something in his ear. Euan looked equally frightened and stole a horrified look at Harry, who felt the grin slide off his face.

His eyes followed up to the Slytherin table, and caught the familiar raven-black haired girl on the table, slowly biding her time as the first years moved up and left the table. From far away, she appeared to be quite… reclusive and introvert-ish, though her behaviour close up was radically different.

 _Daphne Greengrass._

He searched his memories but found nothing about the girl. She was almost like some non-existent entity to his mind. Then again, he really did not know pretty much anyone from Slytherin except for Malfoy and his cohorts. Perhaps he had been way too reclusive over the previous years, though considering everything, the time wasn't too great to go and mingle with Slytherin House of all places.

 _Then again, she might as well be like Malfoy. Better ask Hermione about it._

He shifted his gaze from her, looking back to his own table. Most of the boys of his dorm had left, and not finding Ron or Hermione, he set out alone. He kept his eyes fixed ahead as he wove his way through the crowd in the entrance hall, then he hurried up the marble staircase, took a couple of concealed shortcuts, and had soon left most of the crowds behind.

 _And… everyone is back to staring at me… just as expected._

He had reached the end of the corridor to the Gryffindor common room and had come to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady before he realized that he did not know the new password.

"Err…."

"No password, no entrance," said the Lady loftily.

"Harry, I know it!" someone panted from behind him, and he turned to see Neville jogging toward him. "Guess what it is? I'm actually going to be able to remember it for once —" He waved the stunted little cactus he had shown them on the train. " _Mimbulus mimbletonia_!"

"Correct," said the Fat Lady, and her portrait swung open toward them like a door, revealing a circular hole in the wall behind, through which Harry and Neville now climbed.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room looked as welcoming as ever, a cosy circular tower room full of dilapidated squashy armchairs and rickety old tables. A fire was crackling merrily in the grate and a few people were warming their hands before going up to their dormitories; on the other side of the room Fred and George Weasley were pinning something up on the notice board. Harry waved good night to them and headed straight for the door to the boys' dormitories; he was not in much of a mood for talking at the moment. Neville followed him.

That was where Dean and Seamus met him.

"Hey Harry, good summer?" Dean asked, as he unpacked his trunk.

Harry shrugged. "It was okay."

"Seamus hadn't had a good one though," Dean returned, glancing at Seamus who seemed to do his best to avoid looking at Harry.

"Why what happened?" Neville questioned from behind.

"Me Mam didn't want me come back!" Seamus muttered, as he took out his stuff from his trunk.

"What?" Harry urged.

"Me Mam didn't want me come _back!"_ Seamus emphasized, turning back and staring at Harry with something akin to anger.

"Why?" Neville asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Because of Him!" Seamus pointed at Harry.

"Who me?" Harry asked, both curious and slightly irritated.

"Well," he said in a measured voice, still avoiding Harry's eyes, "she…err…well, it's not just you, it's Dumbledore too."

"She believes the _Daily Prophet_?" said Harry. "She thinks I'm a liar and Dumbledore's an old fool?"

Seamus looked up at him. "Yeah, something like that."

Harry said nothing. He threw his wand down onto his bedside table, pulled off his robes, stuffed them angrily into his trunk, and pulled on his pyjamas. He was sick of it; sick of being the person who was stared at and talked about all the time. If any of them knew, if any of them had the faintest idea what it felt like to be the one all these things had happened to… Mrs. Finnegan had no idea, the stupid woman, he thought savagely.

"Why are you here?"

"Wh—what?" Seamus asked, surprised by the sudden question.

"Why are you here?" Harry repeated in a snappish tone.

"This is my dorm, and someone needs to make sure that you-"

"Not why you are here eating my head!" Harry snapped. "Why are you here in Gryffindor House? You are certainly not brave, when you just flinch at the mention of Voldemort's name- you are certainly not loyal, to have deserted me so soon, not just now when some stupid rag spouted nonsense about me, but last year when my name came out of the Cup. Tell me Finnegan, you have known me for years. When have I _ever,_ lied to you?"

That shut everybody up.

"Well, you haven't-" Seamus tried.

"Just shut up!" Harry replied offhandedly, as he shoved him off and made way for his own bed. Neville put his palm on Seamus, signalled him to drop the issue, who grunted and stepped aside.

"Anything wrong with him?" Dean asked, glancing at Harry who was now lying beneath the covers.

"Just a normal day, I suppose." Neville sympathised.

* * *

The next day morning, Harry found himself at the Gryffindor table with Hermione and the rest. Seamus had been trying to avoid him since he woke up, not that he was in any mood to talk to him either. Breakfast was being served, and Mcgonagall had already provided him with his new schedules. It was OWL year, and for the first time, Harry felt it necessary to actually try and focus on his studies, before things went all frenzy and shit hit the fan.

"Hey Harry, look at this," Hermione urged, pulling his arm, as his glance settled on the first page of the Daily Prophet. For one thing, the Headline wasn't dedicated to him. Second and most importantly, this was perhaps the first of many open-attacks made by Voldemort. The Headline read-

 **MASSACRE AT THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES! DMLE AND DOM AT LOSS TO EXPLAIN!**

 **An unprecedented and unexplained** _ **accident**_ **took place in the hearts of the Department of Mysteries, yesterday night, in the vicinity of a classified XXXXX artefact, which the Unspeakables are not willing to speak about. While it has not been clarified who or what caused the accident, if it were to be an accident or some intentional attack on the Department, our sources reveal that it led to the deaths of nine Unspeakables. The nine dead had been found to be dead, from what the forensics state to be** _ **'an extremely concentrated and thin burst of raw magical power'**_ **, that hit their hearts, exploding them, killing the nine Unspeakables then and there.**

 **The Forensics investigators have also claimed that it was indeed** _ **raw magic**_ **and not some spell, since no magical signature was found. Bode, the spokesman for the Unspeakables had to comment-'there were no ongoing tests in the area where the event occurred, and we are still at a loss to explain. The recording runes and wards all around the place were completely shattered. As of now, we are at a loss.'**

 **Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge simply denied any ideas of this event to be connected to Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore's theory of the Dark Lord You-know-who being back. Whatever it was, it was dangerous and the DMLE has been alerted to be more cautious about it. The DMLE had to-**

"Do you think it's Him?" Hermione nudged. Harry however, seemed more interested in trying to read between the lines. From what he knew, and he didn't really know all that much, but the amount of magical potential required to actually send in _raw magic_ in that fashion was simply extraordinary. It was the sole reason why spells were created in the first place. Raw magic manipulation was an incredibly risky thing, and 'concentrated raw magic' could simply explode at any moment. The fact that someone could manipulate raw magic in such fashion, simply pointed it out at one definite word.

 _Voldemort._

If that were true, how powerful was the man really? And if he was, then why would he use a wand in the first place? He remembered about the _Priori Incantatem_ he had faced the previous year. If Voldemort was so versatile with raw magic, then the brother-wand effect was completely nullified and he had just lost an important asset against Voldemort.

 _Damn!_

"Harry?"

"I—I don't know. I will need to talk to Professor Dumbledore about this." It was an entirely different matter that Professor Dumbledore didn't have a single meeting with him after assigning him to Moody for intense training. In fact, the session about the werewolves was the very last of the ones he had been invited to in the first place, not that it mattered since Sirius pretty much kept him updated about the matters discussed.

 _Barmy old man! Wonder what is cooking inside his head._

His eyes returned to the newspaper.

 _I will need to talk to him about it._

"Potter?"

Harry swiftly turned around to see Professor Mcgonagall standing behind him, wearing an undecipherable expression on her face.

"Yes, professor?"

"The Headmaster wanted me to give you this," She whispered, holding out a piece of parchment, which Harry quickly shoved inside his front pocket. The stern transfiguration mistress nodded imperceptively, before continuing, "The Headmaster informs me that you have finally begun to take your education seriously. I expect you to keep up his expectations."

Harry nodded hesitantly, wondering what it was all about.

"Now off you go, I suppose you all have Potions first."

His eyes wandered to his schedule. _Potions with Slytherin. Greengrass._

"Potter?"

"Yea—yes?"

"Take care." With that unexpected statement, Mcgonagall walked away, leaving him slightly flustered at her strange advice.

"What was that?" Hermione questioned.

Harry just shrugged.

* * *

The day had gotten even weirder with time. For one, Cho had been acting over-friendly with him, almost as if they were best buddies, or even worse, that they were engaged in some romantic affair or something. It was odd- she had been involved with Cedric the previous year, and had even consented to be _hostage_ for him in the second task, though he wasn't sure if the contestants were indeed asked before making them hostages. Considering how there were floating rumours about him _killing Cedric_ to win the tournament, it was insanely unnerving to find Cho being so overly fond of him. While it was true that he did spend time pining for her the last year, her over-friendliness had begun scratching a particular part of his mind. _The part that did not allow 'good' to exist without condition._

Harry and Hermione entered the Potions class, with Harry choosing to partner with Hermione as Ron and Dean partnered together. It wasn't an acceptable agreement if the scowl on Ron's face was of any indication.

"Settle down," said Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him. There was no real need for the call to order; the moment the class had heard the door close, quiet had fallen and all fidgeting stopped. Snape's mere presence was usually enough to ensure a class's silence.

"Before we begin today's lesson," said Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, "I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an 'Acceptable' in your O.W.L., or suffer my… displeasure."

His gaze lingered this time upon Neville, who gulped.

"After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me," Snape went on. "I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye."

His eyes rested on Harry and his lip curled. Harry felt an invisible force trying to break into his mind. There was a searing pain, but the meditation exercises during the summer helped him to locate the source of the attack and he _pushed_ back with complete intent. Snape's eyes lingered on him for a moment before he looked towards Malfoy.

"But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell," said Snape softly, "so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students."

What followed after that was a slight introduction regarding the Draught of Peace, which they were supposed to be brewing during the class, and after Snape was done describing it, everybody set to work. Hermione began to place the equipment while Harry chose to go collect the ingredients.

Halfway through the class, Snape began to walk through the rows, sniffing and inspecting the work done by the students, occasionally choosing to comment something, as Harry felt his attention wane from his work, which was nearly over and as it was, Hermione was concentrating on it; his eyes wandered around the class, and found the very person he was looking for. There on the opposite end, stood Greengrass, working in complete coordination and silence with her partner, an auburn-haired girl, who seemed to be even slimmer than her.

"Why are you staring at Davis?"

"Not her, at Greengrass." Harry answered almost subconsciously.

"Why are you staring at Greengrass?" Hermione countered, with a slightly amused voice.

"Huh?"

"Why are you staring at Greengrass?" Hermione repeated.

The question finally registered in his mind, as Harry suddenly glanced at his best friend, before embarrassment crept in.

"Uh—no, No I wasn't staring at—err- Greengrass. I was just… looking."

"just looking," Hermione repeated, her tone amused.

"yeah," Harry rubbed his neck, embarrassed at being caught in such a precarious position.

"So Greengrass, huh?" Hermione pressed.

"I don't know what you are talking about!" Harry defended.

"Of course you don't." Hermione chortled, before noticing Snape walking towards them as she squeaked softly before returning to her work.

Snape walked up to them, and sniffed the potion. "Hmm, acceptable work, Miss Granger. Five points from Gryffindor, Potter for making a fellow partner do all your work."

"What—I Just-" harry began heatedly.

"Another five points for speaking out of turn." Snape countered.

That shut him up. Snape smirked.

An irrepressible urge to fire his strongest bone-breaker curse at Snape's face overwhelmed his mind, but he began to breathe deeply, trying to control over his emotions. He remembered the previous time he had gotten angry during the summer, and had lost control over his anger. It had been… _unpleasant._

* * *

"I did think he might be a bit better this year," said Hermione in a disappointed voice,as they walked away from the classroom. "I mean… you know," She looked carefully around and found no one as they walked, "Now he's in the Order and everything."

"Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots," said Ron sagely. "Anyway, I've always thought Dumbledore was cracked trusting Snape, where's the evidence he ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?"

"I think Dumbledore's probably got plenty of evidence, even if he doesn't share it with you, Ron," snapped Hermione.

"Oh, shut up, the pair of you," said Harry heavily, as Ron opened his mouth to argue back. Hermione and Ron both froze, looking angry and offended. "Can't you give it a rest?" he said. "You're always having a go at each other, it's driving me mad."

Hermione scowled at him but said nothing. "So Harry," she changed tact, "what's with your gawking at Greengrass?"

"I wasn't gawking." He defended hotly. He felt hot in his cheeks but ignored it.

"I believe you mate," Ron agreed, slapping Harry's back, "Harry wouldn't gawk at a Slytherin."

Harry spun around suddenly. "What's wrong with being Slytherin?"

Ron looked at Harry as if he had just sprouted another head. "Mate, it's _Slytherins."_ He emphasized, as if the word held a deeper meaning, "Malfoy, You-know-who supporters, remember?"

"You don't even know anyone except Malfoy and his cohorts, Ron." Harry defended.

"So you were staring at Greengrass!" Ron apprehended.

"Yes!" Harry resigned with a sigh. "I just… find her interesting, and I met her in the train."

"But mate, she is-"

"Potter!"

The despicable voice attracted their attention. Standing in front of them, with his henchmen on either side, was Draco Malfoy. The pale, blonde boy smirked at him, his arms crossed, as he observed Harry.

"Yes, Malfoy?"

"Heard the dementors liked you so much that they joined you for the summer." Draco smirked, "Father was asking whether he should arrange a trip to Azkaban for you should you like it again."

"Get lost, Ferret." Ron snarled, pointing his wand angrily at Malfoy as Crabbe and Goyle replicated his movement.

"Of course," Harry replied slowly, "after all, you have plenty of relatives locked up there. I can understand why _your father_ would like to go on trips to that place."

Malfoy turned red. For a person who wanted to be intimidating, Malfoy had a piss poor control on emotions, Harry observed. He wondered why he had allowed his own judgement to be swayed by the boy's words before.

 _Was I also, just like him?_

"Careful Potter," Malfoy hissed, edging near Harry, "your days of cashing on your fame are over. The Dark Lord is back and he will show you what true power means…"

"I assume that is why _your father_ spends so much time kissing his arse, isn't it Malfoy? He was there, that night, you know," Harry emphasized, his words suddenly in whispers, "-when your Dark Lord had had to injure a fourteen-year-old, trick him from behind, and then try to kill him. Even then, I am still living. Says a lot about your Dork Lord, Malfoy."

"Don't go biting more than you can chew, Potter." Malfoy threatened, raising his wand.

"Or what? You will call me to a duel, and then send Filch to duel me?" Harry smirked, happy to see the anger flick in the other boy's eyes at the insult. "Admit it, Malfoy. You are all words and no action. We both know how you ran with your tail between the legs when we faced the wraith in the Forbidden forest in our first year."

"You- You filthy little-"

"Potter! Malfoy!" came the stern voice of Professor Mcgonagall, as she stalked towards them. "What's going on?"

"Nothing Professor," replied Harry with fake cheer, "Malfoy and I were just reliving our first-year moments, weren't we Malfoy?" He looked at Malfoy with an exaggerated expression.

"Yes, Professor," Malfoy returned, caught off-guard at the changes in Potter's behaviour, which was wildly different from what he knew and expected.

Professor Mcgonagall pursed her lips, though Harry was sure he noticed a shade of amusement in her eyes, "Very well, you all may go."

Draco looked flustered for a moment, before he signalled his henchmen to follow him as they walked away towards the fourth floor, as Mcgonagall sped away towards her own office.

"That was bloody awesome, mate!" Ron congratulated, "just spectacular! Did you look at the ferret's face?" He chortled. Harry smirked. Hermione just glanced at him a little thoughtfully.

"Now come on, let's get going, or we will be late for DADA." Harry spoke out, as the three treaded towards the fourth floor.

* * *

The fifth-year DADA classroom was not much different than what he remembered from third year, just that there weren't many creatures in cages all around. The new Professor Watson, seemed to be an avid believer of charts though, as a great many charts were hung all around, describing about a variety of curses, spells and their counters. At least one thing was certain- the professor knew her stuff, or at least that was the general idea. The professor was, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

Just like in Potions, Harry settled up with Hermione in the class, while Ron, Dean and Seamus sat a few benches behind them. Hermione had this habit to be a first-bencher, and Ron, for his wish to sit with Harry, did not want that.

"Settle down, everyone," came a rather clear and feminine voice, as the new DADA professor came into view. Harry could feel some kind of _familiarity_ about her, though he couldn't place it.

"I am Professor Watson, and I will be your new DADA professor for this year." She exclaimed, "but before we move on further, there is something I need to ask. Do you all have _Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?"_

Everyone nodded.

"Now, has anyone from this class studied the book so far or even looked through it?"

Harry's eyes automatically moved to Hermione who had her hand raised, almost instantly. He looked back at the Professor and was sure that there was an amused look in her face.

"Very well, Miss….?"

"Granger, Professor."

"Yes, Miss Granger, what is your inference from studying this… textbook?" Watson returned.

"Well, it's useless." Hermione remarked casually, as every single eye in the classroom turned to her for that inflammatory remark. Nobody had expected _that_ from the resident Gryffindor bookworm.

Professor Watson raised an eyebrow. "And why would _you_ think so?"

"There is nothing written in there about using Defensive spells." Hermione replied, in her same blunt tone. Harry almost chortled.

"Right," the new Professor drawled, "and does _anyone else_ share the same sentiment as Miss… Granger here?"

Another hand rose up swiftly from the other side of the classroom, specifically, the Green and silver zone.

"Yes, Miss…?"

"Greengrass."

That caught Harry's attention.

"And your inference is?"

"Mister Slinkhard has never cast a single Defensive spell with his wand, either due to his lack of power or his cowardice."

Harry almost winced. The girl did seem to have a plethora of biting remarks up her sleeve.

There were a few snorts at that.

"Right," Professor Watson stood up. "now everyone, wands out if you please."

Everyone swiftly followed.

"Can anyone tell me the incantation of the flame spell?"

"Inflamare." A chorus of voices shot back.

"Right," Watson drawled, "so I want you to do… this." She levitated her own copy of Slinkhard and muttered audibly. "Inflamare." A tongue of fire shot out of her own wand, lighting up the book, until it was ashes.

Everyone stood stupefied.

"Come on, do that."

A chorus of _Inflamare_ followed, and since not everyone could levitate and inflame it simultaneously, there were a few books that were on the floor, burning to ashes.

"Good work, everyone. Two points to all of you." Watson sighed. "As unfortunate as it is, for you to have wasted two galleons for that textbook, it was the most incompetent piece of work I have ever seen" - Everyone laughed- " _that book_ was assigned to you by the Ministry-approved educator who was supposed to come as the DADA professor this year. Since Professor Dumbledore put me into the slot just before the term began, it was too late to change your textbooks. I recommend everyone to either purchase a copy of _Confronting the faceless_ or you can simply take a duplicate from my own copy. Now that remind me, this is the first spell I want you all to master. It is normally taught in sixth year but it will be a good headstart." She uttered, as everyone focussed on her. "The spell I will be teaching you is the duplication spell, and the incantation is _Geminio._ The wand movement is an anticlockwise rotation with a single flick at thirty degrees downwards. Let me demonstrate…" She pointed at the book in front of her. " _Geminio."_

Instantly a new copy of _Confronting the faceless_ sat beside the professor's own copy, as a set of whispers pervaded the classroom.

"Now while this is used in Defence in some situations, it is not technically a Defensive spell. Can anyone explain why?"

Two hands shot up into the air.

"Miss Greengrass." The professor offered.

"Because we are effectively transfiguring the air around the object into the object. It seems like we are creating a new copy, but in reality, we are actually transfiguring it."

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin, and can anyone tell me the difference between conjuration and transfiguration? Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Conjuration is transfiguration from air." Hermione replied evenly.

"Correct, take another five points." The professor awarded. It seemed the class had already liked the professor.

Harry smiled. While Lupin indubitably had been his best DADA teacher at school, he personally preferred the real Moody's instruction technique. Then again, Lupin had dealt more in magical creatures than in spells—the Patronus being an exception which Lupin had taught him privately, though Harry had played with the spell personally over the course of his previous year. Professor Watson, however, was on a good progress, and Harry could feel that this year DADA would gain a good teacher. About time, since it was OWL year after all.

"Now," The professor continued, "this is OWL year, and I expect students to be in their best form. For that reason, the DADA class will be mostly a practical class, and you will also have several mock-duels to test your skill and spell judgement."

A loud appreciation pervaded the class.

Harry smiled. For all that it was worth, it was promising to be an interesting year.

* * *

Later that evening, Harry found himself standing in front of the large, stone gargoyle that stood guard before the Headmaster's office. He swiftly glanced at the piece of parchment in his hands.

 **Come to my office after dinner.**

 **P.S. It has been quite a** _ **conundrum**_ **lately.**

"Conundrum!" he whispered, as the stone gargoyle suddenly came to life, and leapt to the other side, allowing the narrow passage, through a winding staircase leading to the circular office upwards.

"Come in, Harry," came the Headmaster's voice as his hands were just about to reach for the door knob. Harry sighed. It was a way for the wily old man to express a form of dominance, he thought.

He entered the room, finding it just the way he remembered from his memories last year. The pensive lay on one side, while Fawkes, the phoenix stood on a golden perch on the other end. The grand old man sat behind the great sprawling table, on his chair, his bright blue eyes peering at Harry through those half-moon spectacles.

"How are you, my boy?"

"I'm… good."

"Come in, take a seat."

Harry did so.

"You must be wondering why I called you here; to be honest, it is about the continuation of your training."

Harry's face lit up. "Will Mad-eye-"

"No." Dumbledore answered simply, witnessing the sudden glow disappear from the boy's face. "Alastor has got his own… _priorities_ about the war, and he wouldn't be available to continue the instruction as he did during the holidays."

Which meant that Alastor Moody had been sent on some Order Mission.

"Okay."

"On the other hand, he did mediate it to me that he has found you quite _acceptable,_ which speaks very high about your skill, since Alastor is one of the best veteran battlers alive."

Harry nodded.

"We are here, so that you can continue the _other aspects_ of your training." Dumbledore continued, "and since you did state your wish to fight, it is necessary that you go through it."

Harry sat a little straighter.

"Tell me Harry, have you ever come across the term _Legilimency?"_

Harry peered through his memories, but found nothing. His independent studies had been more about increasing his spell repertoire and understanding the nature of magic.

"No, sir."

"Very well, Legilimency is a cluster of skills, which together, can provide the practitioner, the ability to dive into his opponent's mind, extract information, and if necessary, tamper with his memories, thoughts and even manipulate it to suit his own needs. As you can well understand, it is a very useful skill to have, but as is with all good things, it is restricted by the Ministry." He paused, "I am myself, all modesty aside, an accomplished Legilimens."

Harry's thoughts went back to his meetings with Dumbledore, when he had felt himself getting X-rayed as he stared at the man's deep blue eyes. It brought up another, more recent memory from his Potions classroom that very morning.

"And who else can perform this… Legilimency?"

"Well, aside from myself, and Tom Riddle, who I believe is even better with the skill, Professor Snape. There are a few more among the Death eaters, some notable mentions being Lucius Malfoy, Antonin Dolohov and Augustus Rookwood."

 _Voldemort's inner circle. Then again, even Snape was a Death eater himself._

"Okay." His mind went back to all those moments, when he had _believed_ that Snape had given the impression of being able to read minds. He thought about the several memories of his Potions classes, when he had stared into the man's eyes, and the man had not believed him and deducted points from him.

"And how does one learn this…?"

Dumbledore's moustache quivered. "It takes a considerable time to even become a decent Legilimens. As it is, very few are able to acquire this skill since it requires a great amount of determination, and importantly, _affinity_ for the skill." He paused, "whether you have the affinity for it is a matter of speculation and experimentation, but we are much more interested in another field that goes parallel to Legilimency."

"Oh."

"Suffice to say, an accomplished Legilimens is able to pick out your choice of spell from your mind even before it leaves your wand, and I am sure, you understand how important it is to be able to _shield your mind_ in such a situation?"

Harry just stared. His entire spell repertoire would be useless if his opponent simply knew his move before he cast it. It would be a lost fight before it even began.

Dumbledore held out his hand, and a tiny book zoomed out from the shelf, onto his palm. He forwarded the book towards Harry who picked it up, staring at the cover.

 _ **Occlumency: The Hidden Arte**_

"I am told that you made it a practice to meditate regularly during the summer."

"Moody was insistent about it." Harry answered.

"Of course he was." Dumbledore expressed. "The art of Occlumency is a cluster of different skills, that on the most rudimentary level, can help shield your mind from external penetration by a Legilimens, though it is mostly a battle of power, really."

Harry nodded.

"Apart from that, Occlumency can help you in controlling your emotions, which is vital in battle. It can help you to be more organized, and recall information better, even to the point of acquiring what is called an eidetic memory."

Harry absorbed every single word with undivided attention.

"It is this skill that I want you to learn, and since Lord Voldemort is an accomplished Legilimens himself, it will perhaps, be a most vital skill to have."

Harry nodded. "Is Voldemort… also accomplished at Occlumency?"

"My boy," Dumbledore sighed, "I have said it before, and I will say it again. Tom Riddle was one of the most brilliant students to ever pass the halls of Hogwarts. He was… _natural_ at Occlumency, and his mind well-shielded. Perhaps it was for that sole reason why I mistrusted him so much."

"And Legilimency…?"

"Tom made it a long-term project to master the skill, and as I previously mentioned, his skill at the mind-arts is unparalleled."

 _Right. As if he didn't already have too much power and skill on the first hand._

"Now you, on the other hand, have shown some kind of rudimentary affinity to Occlumency, as I have been told from trusted sources" - which Harry translated to Moody and Snape-"and hence, I have asked Professor Snape to tutor you privately in the subject."

 _The fuck?_

"But Professor- could you—I mean; couldn't you teach me yourself?" Harry tried. Learning the mind arts was an exciting prospect. Learning it under Snape's tutelage? Not so much.

"As much as I would like to, my boy- I cannot offer to instruct you myself. I am too much overwhelmed with work, and besides, I believe Professor Snape is the best person for the job, since he knows the tricks in and out of the book, having learnt the skill from Voldemort himself."

"Voldemort taught Snape Occlumency?" Harry asked, completely stupefied.

"Professor Snape, Harry. He taught him Legilimency, and hence Professor Snape is well-versed in Tom's ways, making him a better tutor for you than myself."

"But-"

"No more arguments, Harry." Dumbledore replied with a tone of strictness in his voice.

Harry did not counter back.

"And now," The old man looked towards the door, "it seems your tutor is here. Right on time. Come in Severus."

The door opened and Severus Snape walked in, his black cloak billowing just as always. "Headmaster." He replied curtly, completely ignoring Harry's presence.

"Your student is ready, Severus. I will leave young Harry in your able hands."

Severus cast a look of deepest loathing at Harry, before he nodded curtly at the Headmaster and turned back towards the door. "Follow me, Potter." He whispered, and without waiting, strode out of the office.

Harry stared back at the old man, who directed him outside, and he swiftly followed, wondering what was in his future, especially when it came to private instruction from Snape.


	7. Chapter 7:Occlumency and surprise visits

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _The door opened and Severus Snape walked in, his black cloak billowing just as always. "Headmaster." He replied curtly, completely ignoring Harry's presence._

" _Your student is ready, Severus. I will leave young Harry in your able hands."_

 _Severus cast a look of deepest loathing at Harry, before he nodded curtly at the Headmaster and turned back towards the door. "Follow me, Potter." He whispered, and without waiting, strode out of the office._

 _Harry stared back at the old man, who directed him outside, and he swiftly followed, wondering what was in his future, especially when it came to private instruction from Snape._

* * *

He paused outside the door when he reached it, wishing he were almost anywhere else, then, taking a deep breath, knocked, and entered.

It was a shadowy room lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which floated slimy bits of animals and plants, suspended in variously coloured potions. In a corner stood the cupboard full of ingredients that Snape had once accused Harry — not without reason — of robbing. Wondering what on earth it was doing here, he jumped when Snape's cold voice came out of the corner.

"Shut the door behind you, Potter."

Harry did as he was told with the horrible feeling that he was imprisoning himself as he did so. When he turned back to face the room Snape had moved into the light and was pointing silently at the chair opposite his desk. Harry sat down and so did Snape, his cold black eyes fixed unblinkingly upon Harry, dislike etched in every line of his face.

"Well, Potter, you know why you are here," he said. "The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than Potions."

"Right," said Harry tersely.

"This may not be an ordinary class, Potter," said Snape, his eyes narrowed malevolently, "but I am still your teacher and you will therefore call me 'sir' or 'Professor' at all times."

"Yes… _sir,_ " said Harry.

"Now, Occlumency, is a branch of magic seals the mind against magical intrusion and influence, including many other abilities which we can discuss once you prove capable enough to make use of the rudimentary aspects of the art."

"Professor Dumbledore thinks you are the best person to teach me Occlumency…" Harry answered, quickly adding up a, "Sir".

"I suppose because it is the headmaster's privilege to delegate less enjoyable tasks," said Snape silkily. "I assure you I did not beg for the job." He got to his feet. "I will expect you at six o'clock on every Monday and Thursday evening, Potter. My office. If anybody asks, you are taking Remedial Potions. Nobody who has seen you in my classes could deny you need them."

Harry stared at him defiantly.

"Do you understand the importance of learning this subject?" Snape asked condescendingly.

"It will stop Voldemort from reading my mind?" Harry stated bluntly.

Snape scowled as he hissed momentarily. "You have no subtlety, Potter," said Snape, his dark eyes glittering. "You do not understand fine distinctions. It is one of the shortcomings that makes you such a lamentable potion-maker."

Snape paused for a moment, apparently to savour the pleasure of insulting Harry, before continuing, "Only Muggles talk of _'mind reading.'_ The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter, or at least, most minds are." He smirked. "It is true, however, that those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly. The Dark Lord, for instance, almost always knows when somebody is lying to him. Only those skilled at Occlumency are able to shut down those feelings and memories that contradict the lie, and so utter falsehoods in his presence without detection."

Whatever Snape said, Legilimency sounded like mind reading to Harry and he did not like the sound of it at all.

"So he could know what we're thinking right now? Sir?"

"The Dark Lord is at a considerable distance and the walls and grounds of Hogwarts are guarded by many ancient spells and charms to ensure the bodily and mental safety of those who dwell within them," said Snape. "Time and space matter in magic, Potter. Eye contact is often essential to Legilimency."

"Well then, why do I have to learn Occlumency?"

Snape eyed Harry, tracing his mouth with one long, thin finger as he did so.

"The usual rules do not seem to apply with you, Potter. The curse that failed to kill you seems to have forged some kind of connection between you and the Dark Lord. The evidence suggests that at times, when your mind is most relaxed and vulnerable — when you are asleep, for instance — you are sharing the Dark Lord's thoughts and emotions. The headmaster thinks it inadvisable for this to continue."

Harry remembered the dream he had the previous year about Voldemort plotting his death. His hand went up to his scar, and for the first time, he felt something odd.

"But sir, my scar doesn't seem to burn anymore." He did not know why he said it. It was instantaneous, and seeing the slight widening of Snape's eyes, he could figure that it was indeed important.

"And your dreams?"

"Sometimes I see flashes of it, but more often than not, it's silent." Harry thought for a while, before continuing, "My scar doesn't pain though."

"And how long… has this been happening?" He asked, a little softly.

"From the summer, I think." Harry replied thoughtfully, not sure how he was able to hold an actual conversation with Snape of all people. "After I was brought to Black House."

"After the dementor attack." Snape deduced audibly. "I will talk with the Headmaster about it. Moody says that you have indeed, have been practicing meditation, and from the rudimentary mental shields your mind shows, they are working."

Harry remembered the barrage of attacks he had faced in the head during Potions class.

"It was you." His tone wasn't accusing, just stating the fact. "The intrusion during Potions class."

Snape's eyes lingered on him for a moment before he nodded, almost imperceptively. "I have no hopes about you forming _decent_ mental shields before Christmas at least. Of course, you won't be able to block out the Dark lord's direct attack, but then again, protecting your mind would be the last thing to worry about if the Dark Lord is in front of you."

Harry swallowed.

"You will study from the book the Headmaster has provided you, and make sure to keep your _remedial classes_ an absolute secret from others. You will study it and do your own research. Is that understood?"

"Yes. Sir."

Snape's lips curled. He stood up jauntily straight, whipping his wand out. Almost subconsciously, Harry took his wand out in a defensive stance.

"Occlumency is generally acquired by gradual study over years. However, there exists a rather, _unorthodox_ method of teaching the subject by subjecting the learner to high-powered Legilimency attacks. _Sometimes it even works."_

Harry gulped. Snape was going to attack his mind? "Sometimes?"

"Yes." The potions master sneered. "Some people, who show slight affinity to mental shielding, can develop a natural response system when subjected to high-powered Legilimency attacks."

 _Was that how Voldemort taught you?_

Snape's eyes narrowed but said nothing.

"What happens to those who do not have the… well, affinity?"

Snape sneered. "They roll on the ground, holding their heads in pain, living their worst memories and crying in agony."

Harry wasn't sure he liked knowing the answer.

"You may use your wand to attempt to disarm me, or defend yourself in any other way you can think of," said Snape.

"And what are you going to do?" Harry asked, eyeing Snape's wand apprehensively.

"I am about to attempt to break into your mind," said Snape softly. "We are going to see how well you resist. I have been told that you have already shown aptitude at resisting the Imperius Curse. You will find that similar powers are needed for this. In case you don't remember how, do what you did today morning in Potions class. Brace yourself, now," He paused as his eyes narrowed, " _Legilimens_!"

Snape had struck before Harry was ready, before Harry had even begun to summon any force of resistance: the office swam in front of his eyes and vanished, image after image was racing through his mind like a flickering film so vivid it blinded him to his surroundings. He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy. He was nine, and Ripper the bulldog was chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn.

 _Why am I seeing this?_

He tried to focus back on the Potions classroom, but the image blurred and he could see himself standing in front of the Mirror of Erised… He pushed the force back, with all his determination. It held for a moment, and facing resistance, slowly withdrew from his mind.

He felt a sharp pain in his knee. Snape's office had come back into view and he realized that he had fallen to the floor; one of his knees had collided painfully with the leg of Snape's desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand and was holding his wrist.

"What was that, Potter?" Snape snarled, rubbing his wrist, as he summoned a potion vial from his shelves.

"What?" Harry asked, rubbing his head.

"You attacked me with a bone-breaker." Snape snarled, applying the potion on his wrist which appeared to be slightly dislocated.

"I—I didn't do it on purpose." Harry stammered, unsure when he had cast the curse. He didn't remember waving his wand or casting the curse in the first place.

"I thought not," said Snape contemptuously. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."

"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Flashes of it," said Snape, his lip curling. "To whom did the dog belong?"

"My Aunt Marge," Harry muttered, hating Snape.

"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," said Snape, raising his wand once more. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy shouting. You must remain focused. Read the texts and make sure you arrive on time for the next class. Now get out."

Harry looked murderously at the man, before he turned around and sighed, before leaving through the door.

* * *

"Remedial Potions?" Hermione repeated in disbelief. "Harry, your potions skill isn't that bad, you know. If not for Professor Snape, you are quite-um- decent at the subject."

Harry frowned. "Snape insisted on it. Cannot help."

"You should complain to Dumbledore, mate. Snape is just being an arse as usual." Ron protested.

Harry did not reply. Suddenly, he turned towards Hermione, and after a moment of hesitation, he asked, "Say Hermione, what do you know about Greengrass?"

Ron scowled but did not say anything. Hermione looked at Harry for a moment. "Not much. She isn't like Malfoy is that's what you are asking. She takes Arithmancy and Runes with me, and-" she frowned a little, -"she scores the highest in those subjects, and well, she is a bit of a loner type, talking only to her friend Davis."

"So she is arrogant?"

Hermione frowned at that. "Not arrogant, I wouldn't say that, but she is kind of, well- rebellious. She is always at odds with Malfoy, from what I have heard."

It reminded Harry about the conversation he had eavesdropped in the train.

"You remember the incident last year when some senior Slytherins were toying with the Gryffindor firsties?"

Ron nodded, his ears red with rage at the thought. It had happened during the second task, and there had been no one to save the young students. Fortunately, someone had helped them out- though the first years never gave out their saviour's identity.

"It was her. And that's not the first time she has done that. She kind of, has a condition against bullying."

Harry stared at Hermione. "How do you know that?"

Hermione smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Harry pondered over it. _A rebel among purebloods? Like Sirius?_

"That's all I know. Maybe you could try getting her to talk, though I am not sure if it is a good idea." Hermione returned, staring at Harry.

"You have to be kidding me, Hermione." Ron admonished, "she is a Slytherin. She would betray him to Voldemort."

"She won't. She hates Malfoy as much as you do." Hermione returned.

"She will."

"Won't."

"Enough, both of you." Harry admonished. "it's getting late and I want to sleep. See you tomorrow, Hermione." He got up, and left for the dormitory, leaving Ron and Hermione looking at him in surprise.

* * *

 **Somewhere in Little Hangleton…**

The Riddle Manor, the mundane property which had acquired a bad rumour of being haunted over the last two years, had suddenly vanished from the surface of the earth overnight. Visible only to those who carried a strange skull-tattoo on their left forearm, and carried a wand, was this manor visible. What had been a dilapidated ramshackle the previous year was now a powerful manor house aided by various magic spells, and protected and hidden beneath several layers of wards and enchantments that no curse-breaker could break in less than at least a week of constant attempts. The Dark Lord had personally sealed the enchantments and wards using Parseltongue, making it technically impenetrable and his own fort. Several junior death eaters wondered why their Lord had chosen a muggle house over any proper wizarding property, but none of them hated their life enough to actually voice that question.

Inside the manor, in a grand room, there stood a long table, and at one end, sat the Dark Lord himself. On his left, sat Lucius Malfoy while Tiberius Nott sat on the other. Jonathan Mulciber and Derek Jugson sat along one side while Fenrir Greyback, Peter Pettigrew and Severus Snape sat on the other side.

"What news do you bring, Lucius?" The dark lord asked silkily.

"My lord, the Unspeakables are being tight-lipped about it. The DOM is quite autonomous, and hence even Fudge is not being useful in that regard." Lucius stated in a composed tone.

"The old man believes you to be involved in the events, my lord." Severus spoke out calmly, as all eyes suddenly turned to him. It was quite uncharacteristic of him to speak out of turn.

"Indeed, Severus," The dark lord spoke as his eyes gleamed red with pulsing power, "does Dumbledore believe me to be so foolish to attack in the heart of the Ministry when it is in my best interest to lay low?"

Snape's fingers etched closer to his wand, though he held a vacant expression on his face, before he answered, "I believe the thought is more of a contemplation, my Lord. What I mean to say is, _who else_ could be so powerful as to manipulate raw magic, the likes of which was used in the massacre at the Department of Mysteries?"

The fact that the hard expression on the dark lord's face softened a little allowed him to feel slightly elated, though his elation was well hidden behind layers of Occlumency defences.

 _Even the greatest fall before vanity…._ He thought.

"As much as I would like to agree, my friend," the dark lord returned, "it was not me there at the department. It was either some kind of freak accident, or someone _possibly dangerous_ out there, holding a grudge over the Unspeakables."

"A rebel amongst them, perhaps?" Tiberius suggested.

"I do not think so," Lucius countered, as a frown registered on Nott's face. "Rookwood was our greatest informant of the affairs inside the DOM. If there were such a thing, Rookwood would have told me or to our Lord."

"Is this stranger, really so dangerous?" Pettigrew squeaked, internally contemplating the significance of it all.

"It could be an outsider." Jugson suggested, "if at all."

Snape only had eyes for the Dark Lord, who sat and contemplated the situation. Privately, he couldn't help but marvel at the development- it seemed that whoever this stranger was, if it was some witch or wizard- was powerful enough to make the Dark Lord contemplate so much about him or her. Perhaps if some kind of treaty be made between this person and the Order- whatever it would be, would be infinitely better than holding on to the hope that Potter would be the one to slay someone the likes of Lord Voldemort.

"I want eyes on this person, whoever it might be. Wake our spies, and get me this person. I need to evaluate if this person can be an ally, or a threat." The dark lord ordered before glancing at Greyback, "I want eyes on the international community. Send information to your packs. I need this man, or woman, whoever it is."

Greyback grunted in affirmation.

"My Lord, what if Dumbledore-" Tiberius began, but the Dark Lord intervened- "This stranger is a murderer, and the old man with his lofty ideals will never stoop so low as to join hands with a murderer."

 _Too Right!_ Snape thought bitterly.

"And the prophecy, My lord?" Tiberius asked.

"Continue on it as usual. We will not make our move until Phase One is complete." The dark lord turned to Snape, "What news do you bring, Severus?"

"The old man still holds faith on the prophecy, my Lord. He still believes that _Potter" —_ he sneered in disgust as he pronounced the name- "has the power to-"

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. I have plans for him. I must say though; the boy has incredible luck." Severus snorted mentally, he couldn't agree more- "and a good amount of power. Under the right guidance, he could have become a good Death eater."

Snape mentally rolled his eyes. Trust the dark lord to hope for converting Potter of all people to join him.

"You know best, my lord." Snape agreed.

* * *

 **Back at Hogwarts…**

"What do you think of this incident, Professor… Watson?"

Hermione-now Emma, closed her eyes, as she took a deep sigh. Opening her eyes, she stared at the Headmaster who was observing her deeply. "Is there any chance that Voldemort might be the one involved in this issue?"

"Might be," Dumbledore confessed, "but it does not occur to me why he would choose to penetrate the Department of Mysteries himself, and then, go into the deeper sections of the Department, only to kill _certain_ Unspeakables, knowing very well that it would incite public reaction. Also, if he was indeed there at the Department, he would have tried to take the Orb himself, something he did not do."

"Could he, I mean, could he really get the orb?" Emma pressed.

Dumbledore frowned. For one, it was incredibly odd, discussing such facts with someone else. Even Severus was limited to very specific information, which was essential. The influx of a time-traveller into the plan was something he never saw coming.

"I do not think so. Divination is a very complicated form of magic, with innumerable number of interpretations."

"More like woolly." Emma commented under her breath.

Dumbledore chortled. "One has to be more… _open-minded_ to be able to truly grasp the intricacies of Prophecies, Miss… Watson, but to answer your question… I do not think that Tom could lift the Prophecy orb himself."

"Why not? The orb was about him and Harry." Emma refuted.

Dumbledore cast her a curious glance. "Tell me, Miss Watson, do you know the true wordings of the Prophecy?"

Emma shook her head.

"Very well…" He took a deep sigh, and began…

 _ **"The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches...  
born to those who have thrice defied him...  
born as the seventh month dies...**_

 _ **And the dark lord will mark him as his equal,  
but he will have power the dark lord knows not...  
And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...**_

 _ **The one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."**_

"That's more of an overgeneralised statement, Professor." Emma snorted.

"Whatever do you mean?" Dumbledore asked, his eyebrows raised.

"The wording… it doesn't even mention the name of the Dark Lord. Statistically, there has been a minor dark lord every fifty years, and a major one in every century. Only in this particular century, have we seen two major dark lords- Voldemort and Grindelwald. The prophecy could just be about any upcoming major or minor dark lord." Emma spoke out.

Dumbledore looked at her with a calculative expression. "And you know that how?"

"The Rise and Fall of Dark arts. I read it in first year." Emma stated, with a touch of humour in her voice. "It doesn't even name Harry here, nor does it name Voldemort anywhere in the Prophecy... It's more of an overgeneralised statement I could expect from someone of the likes of Sybil Trelawney."

"As much as I would want your opinion to be correct, Miss Watson, it is not. Besides, all of this is just moot point since Voldemort himself believes in the Prophecy, and thus, will work in ways so that the Prophecy will come true."

"Self-fulfilling, you mean." Emma contradicted him.

"Excuse me?"

"Voldemort heard the first part of it from Snape, and decided to go and hunt for the Potters. He took the wordings literally and thus, decided that _little Harry Potter_ would be his foe, and thus, needed to be decimated. If he hadn't heard it, he wouldn't act that way. Isn't that right? See, self-fulfilling!"

Dumbledore almost snorted. "While your little argument does stand, there are many finer details which do ultimately prove that Harry Potter is indeed the one prophesized about. Details which I _cannot afford_ to share with you at this moment."

Emma glared at him.

"We have digressed." The old man finally replied, "back to the DOM issue, do you have any thoughts on who or what might be involved?"

"I'm… I'm at a mess." Emma confessed. "I mean, Ragnarok could have done that, no doubt about that—but I essentially destroyed the Time Chamber and the artefact as I came here. There is no way by which-"

Dumbledore looked up sharply. "But Ragnarok _can_ inflict this level of damage and manipulate raw magic as reported. Right?"

Emma looked at the old man, eye to eye. "If there is anyone in the world I could bet on, it would be _Ragnarok._ Of course, I have never really seen you or Voldemort try it, so my personal opinion counts very little."

"There might be a few archmages at the ICW who could be associated that technique, but none of them would…" Dumbledore let that thought die midway, as he digressed, "In either event, we need to prepare. Voldemort is already about to attack, and now this unknown threat looming over the horizon." The old man looked positively stressed as he sat back down on his chair, with a great sigh.

"What about Harry?" Emma asked suddenly.

"What about him?" Dumbledore snapped.

"Well, if I know Harry, _which I do,_ he isn't going to take all this staying down, and if you continue treating him as a child-"

"I am _not!"_ Dumbledore scoffed, "—not treating him like a child, at least after receiving that communication from the future. I understand that Harry must be trained and that's why I have told Severus to train him-"

"which will be completely useless!" Emma yelled back in frustration.

Dumbledore looked at her incredulously. "Excuse me?"

"Oh please," Emma scoffed, "you know it very well how Snape hates Harry, and to trust him with something so essential as Occlumency-"

"Severus has my complete trust." Dumbledore defended.

"Only yours!" Emma snapped. "That man-child holds his personal grudge against James Potter more than his willingness to kill Voldemort. He will only help as little as is forced upon him. In my time, Harry's mind was so damaged because of _Severus's Legilimency attempts_ that his mental defences broke down completely, making him much more vulnerable to Dementors." Emma looked at him pleadingly. "Please, Headmaster. I implore you, either take Harry's training in your own hands, or allow me to-"

"Enough, Miss Watson!" Dumbledore thundered, "please don't make a mockery of my own judgement. There is a reason why Severus is perfect for the job I have given him, and it is essential that Harry should learn Occlumency from him." His voice softened a little. "That said, I will take your concerns into account, and I will take Harry's education in my own hands."

"Does his education mean calling him once a month and showing him Pensieve memories?" Emma snapped.

Dumbledore winced a little. It seemed that all his plans had gone down the drain in the future. "While I admit that had been my original intention, I have thought of some particular skills which I can impart to young Harry, skills that can help him gain an edge in the fight."

"And what would those be?" Emma eyed him warily.

"Oh a little of this and a little of that." The old man replied airily.

Emma's eyes twitched.

* * *

It had been three weeks into the term, and Harry had settled himself on a fixed training regime. He had found himself a classroom in one of the deserted areas of the castle. Hogwarts' Castle was so expansive, that only a fraction of it was actually used for the schooling purposes. There were a significant number of classrooms, offices, chambers and of course, secret and unused corridors that were unused by the students and teachers alike, except for pranksters which came once in a generation.

Just as Moody had assigned him, he did his readings dutifully, working on his ever-increasing arsenal of spells and the theory behind them. It had taken him some time to understand that simply knowing a huge number of spells wasn't enough, he also had to understand the theory behind them, and cast them enough times so as to make it second nature to him. To this moment, the bone-spells were the ones that came to him instinctively, and from what the cracks on the floor and the walls demonstrated, he had grown habituated to pack considerable power in them.

And then he would dive into comprehending the mysteries of the nature of magic, and how it affected him. Understanding the fact that it was only magical power that was common between himself and Voldemort, it was imminent that he would need to come up with something that could use this power effectively, while giving him an ace in the battle.

Snape had progressed to more and more powerful attempts at getting past his mental defences, but Harry was slowly learning how to counter the man's deadly attacks. The book Dumbledore had given him had been a lifesaver, since it actually explained the concepts in simplistic detail, and thanks to his regular practice of meditation, his mind had become a little calmer than it was previously. Not having a painful scar burning on his forehead helped matters. By his third class with Snape, he had created a voluntary mental defence, no matter how rudimentary it was. Once he was past the vengeful persona, Snape was actually a good teacher. It was clear that the man didn't expect anything great from him, but Harry did know that there was no one that could push him as much as Snape.

 _Perhaps that was why Dumbledore wanted me to study under his tutelage._

"Unbridled emotion is the foe of ambition." Snape would quote during his lessons. "Those who wear their hearts on their sleeves have no place in the battle field, since their emotions will make their defeat a reality."

Harry could agree to that completely. He would be a fool not to, since on one occasion, Snape had invited him to a duel, and _plucked_ the spells from Harry's mind even before he had cast them, and Harry had found himself on the floor more times than he could count. Such was the versatile power wielded by a skilled Legilimens, and Voldemort, he was a _natural._

The more he studied, the more it hit him how _bloody lucky_ he had been so far in life, considering how he had been able to evade Voldemort not once, not twice, but over five times so far, and still be alive. With that came the humbling realization that someday he might _not_ be so lucky, and the Dark Lord would make sure Harry would be a paste splattered on one of the lanes in Diagon Alley.

And then one day…

He was walking back to the Gryffindor dormitory, his mind blissfully tuning off the stares he got as he trotted back, ready to get a quick nap after what had been a long training session. Hermione and Ron, being the Prefects that they were, had been kept busy on holidays, and in any case, Harry hadn't been upcoming with answers. Anything they asked had been swatted away by _'personal training as per Dumbledore's orders.'_ When asked about the place he was training at, Harry would suddenly digress the topic away to something else.

"Hey Harry."

Harry turned back to find his fellow Gryffindor Colin Creevey running towards him. Colin was one of the very few at Hogwarts who didn't really have any problems with him, not that he had openly agreed with him on the Voldemort issue. He just didn't care enough for it anyway.

"Hello Colin."

"Listen," The boy panted, holding out a slip of parchment, "Professor, Professor Dumbledore gave me this, to give to you."

Harry held the piece of parchment gingerly before he placed it inside his robes. "Thanks." He muttered.

"You don't wanna see what's inside it?" Colin urged.

"I'll see it later." Harry returned evasively. The other boy shrugged and walked past.

"See ya, Harry."

Watching the mousy-haired boy depart, Harry retrieved the parchment and checked it. It was, just as expected, a note from the old man. He wondered why the old man would send him a note on a Saturday.

 **Meet me in my office after lunch.**

 **P.S. I enjoy acid pops.**

Harry rolled his eyes. Dumbledore and his obsession with confectionaries was more than a little funny. He wondered what it was, this time. Musing about what it could be, he walked slowly towards the Gryffindor dormitory when a hand caught on his arm and shoved him aside.

His wand instantly went spinning into his palm, and a bludgeoning hex on his lips, he pulled the surprised attacker towards himself, as he forced the person against the wall, his wand at the stranger's forehead. It all happened so fast that it was all in a blur. Now that he had the situation under control, he looked at the stranger, who was trying to get him off from her.

"Get off, Potter!"

His wand still pointing at her, he stepped back, as his mind registered the person he was staring at. Bright blue eyes, raven-black hair, Slytherin robes and that rebellious look- he wondered why Daphne Greengrass of all people had pulled him aside.

"Green-grass." He returned.

"Ah," the girl replied cockily, "so the great Boy-who-lived does know other people than his own sycophants."

 _What?_

"What do you mean?"

"Oh you know what I mean, Potter." She looked at him in the eye. "And please, put that wand away. It can poke someone in the eye."

"You pulled me aside by surprise. I don't see any reason to put my wand away." Harry replied coldly.

Daphne sighed. "I knew you would be difficult." Her shoulders drooped slightly. "Tell me, Potter; why is it that after four years of studying in the same class, you have suddenly begun to stare at me as if I am your favourite meatball?"

"Huh- no, I don't under-"

"Sure you don't." Daphne drawled. "Never thought you would be the kind of Gryffindor to fall for a Slytherin, you know. If I did, Tracey would have tried an attempt before."

"What do you-" Harry tried again, trying to prevent the blush rising up his face.

"Yes, yes. Gryffindor chivalry and denial, I get it." The girl nodded understandingly. "However," her eyes seemed to brighten up, "I have just one message for you- Stop STARING! It's going to cause problems for me, and for you."

Harry stood muted for a moment, trying to process the information, as Daphne sighed and pushed him away, walking out.

"Hey wait!"

Daphne turned around, "What now?"

"What did you mean by problems?" Harry demanded.

Daphne looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "You. Are. Harry. Potter." She explained, punctuating each word as if talking to a retarded child.

"You say that as if that explains how me staring at you could effectively start a war." Harry refuted.

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "So you do confess to staring at me, eh?" Her expression, seemed almost amused.

That shut Harry up.

Daphne gave a long suffering sigh. "What do you want, Potter?"

"Me? I don't want anything. You came here, you pulled me in, and you are the one threatening."

"Then why do you stare?"

Harry fought the blush rising at his cheeks. "I—uh-"

"Very eloquent, Potter. Please continue." The girl drawled.

 _Damn this is difficult!_

"I—well, I am interested in you."

Daphne looked at him as if observing some kind of interesting insect, as her hands went up to her hips to create a rather interrogative posture. "Why?"

 _Damned good question._

"I—I don't know. I have never seen you with Malfoy, and-" Harry tried. Damn, that came out all wrong.

"You _like me_ because I don't hang out with Malfoy?" She peered at him like a hawk.

"No, no—wait, that came out all wrong, I meant to say is, you are not one of his sycophants and you are pretty and-"

"WOW!" Daphne mocked, "I am amazed to hear about my true talents. I am eye candy and not a sycophant. Pray, please continue."

Harry's ears had already turned red from embarrassment. He had _so not seen_ this coming.

"You know what?" She walked up close to him, and spoke, "You are a Gryffindor and I am a Slytherin. The Dark Lord is back, and my family has been a supporter in the previous war. So here's good advice for you. Run back to your precious Weasleys and your Gryffindor kingdom, and unless you want big, bad Slytherins to come, capture you, and put you down in front of Him."

She stomped and turned around, her hairs lashing across his face as she did, and took a couple of steps when-

"I was supposed to be in Slytherin, you know."

That stopped her in her tracks.

"What do you mean?" She asked, not even dignifying his answer by turning back.

"The Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin." Harry didn't know why he was saying all of that to a stranger.

Daphne swerved around. "Then how come you are in Gryffindor?"

"I had met Malfoy in the train, and didn't want to put up with that guy for seven years." Harry almost shrugged, his eyes nostalgic. "I admit that I allowed Ron to persuade me into thinking that Slytherins are evil and all that, but then I met you, and I realized that it's not just black and white."

"Congratulations on growing up." Daphne remarked bitingly.

Harry took a step closer. "I suppose the reason I stare at you, is because I understand that there are many turns in the Slytherin way, and I think we are more similar than we know, and that I would like to know you better."

"Uh-huh, didn't take you for the Philosopher type." Daphne returned, though the effect was a little lacking.

"Well, I suppose it's a part of growing up." Harry shrugged.

"Aren't you afraid that I am going to betray you to the Dark Lord?"

"No. Somehow I don't think it would be your style. Batting against Malfoy publicly, and then serving Voldemort?" His lips twisted into a smile when he saw that she didn't flinch.

"You are an odd wizard, Harry Potter."

"Well," Harry shrugged, "I have heard that before."

Daphne stared at him momentarily. "So you have _feelings_ for me or something?"

Harry stood, dazed at the turn of events. "Uh, yeah, I think-"

"Yes or No?" She stressed.

"Uh, yeah, yes. I do."

Daphne walked up to him, in an almost Snape-ish fashion, observing him calculatedly. "Hmmm, you will do. Meet me at the gates to Hogsmeade tomorrow at eleven, and I do not like waiting on a date."

"Huh?" Harry grunted, at the seemingly unreal turn of events.

"Eloquent as always, Potter." Daphne smirked audibly, before turning away.

"What? On a date? Just like that?" Harry spluttered.

Daphne spun around. "Did you expect anything more?"

"No, but, wait, _you just asked me out to a date?"_

Daphne raised her eyebrows, as her hands went up to her hips. "And that is a problem?"

"No, just, well, I thought you would, you know-" Harry tried hard to be expressive, but words failed him.

"Well," Daphne shrugged, "I am like this, so deal with it. Don't keep me waiting, Potter, and for Merlin's sake, wear something nice."

With that seemingly unreal statement, Daphne spun back and walked away, leaving a shell-shocked Harry Potter standing back there, grinning like a buffoon.


	8. Chapter 8 : Training and Agendas

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _Daphne spun around. "Did you expect anything more?"_

 _"No, but, wait,_ _you just asked me out to a date?"_

 _Daphne raised her eyebrows, as her hands went up to her hips. "And that is a problem?"_

 _"No, just, well, I thought you would, you know-" Harry tried hard to be expressive, but words failed him._

 _"Well," Daphne shrugged, "I am like this, so deal with it. Don't keep me waiting, Potter, and for Merlin's sake, wear something nice."_

 _With that seemingly unreal statement, Daphne spun back and walked away, leaving a shell-shocked Harry Potter standing back there, grinning like a buffoon._

* * *

"Professor?"

"Ah, Harry, I hope you didn't have any trouble finding this place. Did you?" Dumbledore exclaimed, as Harry stood outside the door. The boy still had trouble believing that there had been an actual hidden room in the seventh floor. Just as the old man had described, the room had materialised as he walked three times across it, his mind focussed on a single wish.

" _I want to enter the room where Albus Dumbledore is."_

Harry slowly entered the huge chamber, having trouble in believing that such a large chamber could actually be present inside Hogwarts Castle. At the first look, it seemed to be at least thrice the size of the Great Hall, only it was completely empty, with marble flooring all around, including the walls and the roof.

"Spatial expansion." Dumbledore mused audibly. "It is a wonderful thing, isn't it?"

"Like wizarding tents?" Harry questioned, taking his time to take in the magical effect all around him.

"Precisely, Harry," Dumbledore answered, "though on a much more complicated level. This, Harry, is the legendary Room of Illusions, built by Rowena Ravenclaw herself, also known as the Come and Go room, or the Room of Requirement."

"Room of Requirement?" Harry repeated.

"Precisely. It changes itself according to the seeker's needs. For instance, at this moment, we need an area with a lot of space, and so, here we have it."

A sly grin crept on Harry's lips. "So if I were to think of the Black Manor," he closed his eyes as he thought of the duelling room inside Black Manor.

"Open your eyes."

Harry did so, as his eyes widened to grasp the view in front of him. He was back at Black manor, standing in the middle of the duelling chamber, where Mad-Eye-Moody had trained him.

"Spectacular, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked, with a tone of reverence in his voice. "Very few have had the chance to stumble across this room, and hence, I would prefer it if you would keep it a secret."

Harry nodded, completely agreeing to Dumbledore's point of view. If the room was what he thought it was, the possibilities were limitless. "I never knew that such a room could exist in Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts has limitless secrets in it, and far be it for me to state that I know all of its secrets. To be honest, Harry, I just discovered this room two days ago."

"Oh." Harry wondered for a moment how the old man had just _happened_ to find such an elegant room, but kept his thoughts to himself.

"However, we digress." Dumbledore continued, "as I stated back then, it is time that I take a personal interest in your training. While I am sure that your private training regimen in the deserted classrooms on the south end of the castle hold a lot of potential," - Harry's eyes widened as he understood that the old man knew all about his private training- "I believe I might have a thing or two that might make a difference."

Dumbledore willed the Room to revert back to its previous state, and Harry found himself standing inside the great empty hall. "I believe Alastor taught you how to apparate, during the summer."

"Sirius." Harry interrupted. "Sirius taught me."

"Right," Dumbledore continued offhandedly, "It is good to see Alastor working good with other people, however- I must ask you, if you have had practice in tandem apparating before."

"I can hold my ground." Harry returned.

"Right. The first part of your training involves apparation. While one cannot truly apparate _in and out of Hogwarts,_ you might be able to do so, while staying inside this room, _at my discretion."_

Harry gaped. "You mean I will be able to practice apparation inside this room?"

"Well, being _me,_ has its advantages." Dumbledore returned mirthfully. His countenance then shifted to a little more serious, as he continued, "This is the first stage of your training." He willed the room, and a dummy appeared in front of Harry. The old man waved his wand, and a large, rectangular area was etched on the floor.

"This dummy…" he said, pointing at the dummy, which raised its arm, holding a wand, "will be shooting spells at you. Your job will be to defend yourself," Dumbledore paused, "using Apparation alone."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Let me clarify that. You _will not_ apparate out of the rectangle. No matter how many spells are cast, you _will_ only apparate away to defend yourself. Am I clear?"

Harry nodded. He had had a good experience in dodging spells. Moody made sure of that. While he hadn't apparated that too many times previously, he didn't think it would be _that_ difficult.

He quickly apparated and disapparated a number of times while staying inside the marked area.

"I think I can do this."

"While I commend you on your successful attempts at tandem apparation, you are making a great deal of noise. If done right, apparation can be used as a stealth skill. There is no amount of silencing charms that can aid you if your entrance begins with a loud noise."

Harry looked a tad embarrassed. "I will work upon that."

Dumbledore nodded. "You are pouring excessive energy into the act. The excess power converts itself into sound, which follows the act. Balancing the right amount of power and being able to do it almost subconsciously is the key."

Harry nodded.

"Work on that, but for now, brace yourself," Dumbledore warned, as he channelled a pulse of raw magic into the dummy, which activated instantly, and begun firing spells at him. It was only a simple stinging hex, but Harry assumed that it would hurt.

The first succession of spells raced towards him, as Harry focussed on what he had learnt. His mind calmed down, and he let his magic take over, and then he dematerialized, as the hexes flew past where he had been. He reappeared just a foot away, and then again disappeared, as another hex shot towards him. He apparated and disapparated, and soon enough, he had gotten the hang of it. The dummy fired consistently, and yet, Harry would vanish the moment the spell reached him, and reappear just a little distance from his place.

Dumbledore smiled. Most people would have been down on their knees after apparating in tandem for more than a minute, and here Harry was, apparating consistently without any stop, and it was already two minutes.

"Finding it easy, Harry?" He asked, raising his voice a little.

"Yeah!" Harry panted, stopping for a moment before vanishing again. "I told you I can do this."

"You know what, you were right, my boy." Dumbledore replied, his tone filled with amusement. "One is just not enough." He willed the Room, and soon enough, four more dummies materialized next to the one that was already giving Harry a tough time.

"Let's see how you deal with five." Dumbledore challenged, as he willed a chair into existence, relaxing onto it, as he served himself with his precious lemon drops. He watched as the five dummies let the boy on a proverbial goose chase, as the boy apparated and disapparated continuously. In less than twenty seconds, he was hit by the first stinging hex, before he could apparate.

"Damn!" He heard Harry curse.

"Whenever you are ready to yield, shout it out. The dummies will stop." The old man declared, as he waved his wand on the floor, as some obscure runes formed on the surface, glowing brightly in various colours. "Until you are comfortably able to apparate for five minutes, without a single strike on your person, you are going to do this."

The next forty seconds had been the most brutal, since Harry found himself being hit by at least ten hexes, as he tried his level best to apparate away, now resorting to weaving his way through the spells as he did so. Another twenty seconds, and he could feel his magic waning as he finally apparated away from an attack, only to stand in the way of three successive hexes that hit his face, throwing him down.

With great effort, Harry picked himself up, his knees hurting as he somehow forced himself to remain standing, without faltering.

"You did good for your first day, but considering _who and what_ you are up against, this is _not even barely enough._ Until you manage to apparate effortlessly for five minutes, without getting hit by a single hex, _this_ is going to be your training." The old man took out a tiny vial from his robes. "This is an ever-filling vial of pepper-up potion. Drink it."

Harry gratefully took the vial- his arms hurting as he extended his right arm towards the Headmaster. With supreme effort, he gulped down the contents of the vial.

"Keep it with yourself. Every night after dinner, you will come to this room and practice apparation until you can effortlessly do what I asked you to do. I shall be dropping in from time to time to keep track of your progress." He observed as the potion took effect- visible since Harry looked better with every passing moment- "Now off you go." With that statement, he walked off, leaving the tired boy alone in the room, as he walked back to his office.

" _I hope you understand what you are truly against, my boy."_ The old man thought to himself, _"I am just worried about what you might become when I am done with you."_

* * *

It was almost nine when Harry Potter woke up the next day. After the training he had after lunch, he had somehow crawled back to the Gryffindor dorm, and fallen down onto his bed, losing himself to deep slumber. The tiring training had taxed his power quite a lot, and he had fallen down into a dreamless sleep for hours after that.

"Hey Harry," Neville barked, as he walked down the stairs of his dorm, "had a good sleep?"

Harry grunted in return, wanting to just get back to bed for another nap.

Neville snorted at his reaction. "Will you be joining me at Hogsmeade? I am leaving at eleven."

That stopped Harry in his tracks.

 _Fuck!_

 _I am supposed to meet Greengrass at Hogs- fucking-meade at Eleven!_

"Harry-?"

"I-I just remembered something." Harry mumbled, before he quickly darted back to his dorm, pulling up his trunk. Pulling the random stuff out, he finally got what he wanted. Letting out a deep sigh, he sat down. It was a good thing that he had packed up some of his new clothes from his summer-shopping spree with Bill. Sirius had been adamant about it all, and not for the first time, Harry mentally thanked the other man for it.

He quickly waved his wand as the _tempus_ charm took effect.

8:57 A.M.

 _Damn! Less than two hours…_

"Harry mate, good to see you up finally. Hermione's barking mad since morning!" Ron called out, as he entered the room, casually dressed in his underpants.

Harry took a glance at the other boy. "You met Hermione dressed like that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh," Ron's ears reddened at the thought, "No—I mean, I saw her before going for a bath!"

"Right!" His face scrunched for a moment. "Listen, Ron, uhm—well, I won't be able to accompany you guys to Hogsmeade. I'm—well."

Ron looked all the more confused with time. "What happened mate? Everything all right? You didn't run into some problems, did you?"

Harry felt a little bad about not accompanying his friends for a moment, before he killed the thought. "I am accompanying Greengrass to Hogsmeade!"

There, he had said it. There was no turning back.

Ron stood for a moment, until the words registered in his mind. "Greengrass?" He paused. "You are going with Greengrass?"

Harry nodded.

A slight greenish hue crossed Ron's face for a moment. It was expected. Well, almost. Daphne Greengrass was one of the most beautiful girls in the entire school, and given her rebellious and cold external façade, it was almost a shocking revelation that Harry was going out with her. In fact, even during the Yule Ball, when her partner—a seventh year from Durmstrang had tried to have his way with her, she had cursed him to next week and back., and then transfigured him into a parakeet. At least, that was what the rumours said. Slytherin or not, going on a date with the girl was a subject of male fantasies.

"Ron?"

"Ron?"

"Yeah?" Ron stammered. His face lost the sudden coloration as he returned to earth. "But she is a Slytherin, mate!"

Harry rolled his eyes.

* * *

 **Two hours later...**

Just as he feared, he had gotten late. Only ten minutes remained before the clock would strike eleven, and Harry was still inside the dormitory. Out of all the days, the washrooms just had to be occupied today, and then another tiny altercation involving Ron, Seamus and Malfoy had finally got him to the feared moment he dreaded.

He was late.

Not for the first time, he hated the fact that Hogwarts had anti-apparation wards. There was no way he could possibly-

The thought lay incomplete in his mind, as another idea germinated in his mind. It wouldn't be correct, and he might have to lose some points because of it, but then again, when had something like _losing points_ stopped him from doing anything? Snape deducted too many points from him for it to be of any significance anyway. Besides, this was flying, and there was nothing that could possibly go wrong.

He rushed towards his trunk, and took out his Firebolt. It was a pity that the windows in his dorm had grills, and were spell-resistant. The gift from Sirius still held the prestigious title of being the fastest broom so far, although the makers had announced that the latest and upgraded version—The Thunderbolt, was going to be released very soon- anyway, he held up the broom, and making sure, everything was in order, he cast a disillusionment charm on himself— and quickly stole out of the Gryffindor Tower.

The moment he was out of the Gryffindor common room, he slowly lifted up onto the broom-a little difficult since it was invisible for all intents and purposes- and willed it to move forward. The Firebolt, just as always, obeyed his command as it weaved through the air, shooting down towards the Great Hall, aiming for the balcony just above it. After all, there was nothing that could possibly go-

Argus Filch had been cleaning the huge chandelier that hung just at the entrance of the Great Hall, standing upon a wooden ladder-while a few of the teachers, one of whom happened to be Professor Mcgonagall, sat on the staff table in the Great Hall, chatting with her fellow colleague Septima Vector. As the Firebolt shot down towards the Great Hall, its aerodynamic body cutting through the air, it sent a minor shockwave through the air as it shot towards the balcony. As unfortunate as it was, Filch just had to lean towards the balcony that very moment and-

WHAM!

Filch collided with the rear end of the Firebolt-an impact that sent him tumbling down onto the floor, right above Mrs. Norris, as the flea-bitten cat scratched his face with all his might in resentment. The shock of the event stopped Harry mid-flight as he hung, his face scrunched as he looked at the fallen man on the floor in surprise.

"HARRY POTTER!"

 _Fuck!_

Apparently, the shock had thrown off his control over the disillusionment charm, which had faded enough to betray him in front of the entire audience.

 _Double fuck!_

"GET DOWN FROM THAT BROOM! RIGHT NOW!" Mcgonagall bellowed.

"Uh, professor—I-uh-I'm so sorry Professor-" Harry did not wait any longer, as he shot off with the Firebolt, not waiting for Mcgonagall to pronounce his punishment. At least he didn't get banned from visiting Hogsmeade-perish the thought- whatever it might be, he didn't take any chances. Well, we only live once.

 _At least I am not missing my date!_

He flew across the school grounds, rising high as the Firebolt picked up mind-boggling speeds, flying all over the grounds, until he was levitating just near the gates to Hogsmeade. He somehow got down, before pushing his Firebolt into the mokeskin-pouch he had gotten on his birthday from Sirius- a gift he was most grateful for in this situation. He brushed off the dust off his clothes, and made sure they didn't look ruffled, as he stood, waiting for his date to arrive.

Sharp at eleven, Daphne Greengrass casually walked past the gates of Hogsmeade, and stood in front of him. Harry took a moment to glance at her gown- jet black just like her hair, suiting perfectly with her fair skin tone, wearing an acromantula-silk shawl around her upper torso. Not for the first time, Harry mentally complimented her on her beauty.

"I must admit, Potter, I did not expect such punctuality from a Gryffindor," Greengrass replied, "now if you are done gawking at me, might we just move in?"

"Uh-" Harry tried his level best to avoid the embarrassment from expressing itself.

"Eloquent as usual," Daphne drawled., her eyes observing him. "For the record, why do you look like you just had a Merlin-forsaken Quidditch match?"

Harry just grinned.

* * *

For the nth time, Harry wished that people would stop staring at them. The couple had been to Scrivenshafts at first, where Daphne wanted to get some stationery supplies, and it had been there that he had come across Ron, Neville and Hermione. Neville had apparently joined up with Ron and Hermione to Hogsmeade. The moment Harry's eyes met Hermione's, her eyes widened, and a look of understanding passed between them. Ron looked tongue-tied while Daphne had gone ahead to buy some stationery. Neville was the only person who displayed the least reaction- apparently Neville and Daphne were cousins- Neville's grandfather's sister was Daphne's grandmother, making them cousins of a sort. The two met each other at parties, Daphne shared as they walked out of the stationery shop.

Daphne, Harry observed—was quite a conversationalist if one could cross through her initial cold façade. Apparently, she was at odds with her own parents because of her own agendas, and was even studying for a course in clinical psychiatry from Oxford- her contingency plan if the situation in Magical Britain turned too dangerous for someone like her. Besides, she was rather good with mind-altering charms- Harry noticed, though he did not pry into the topic.

"So, Potter- what changed this year?"

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Till the previous year, you were a backbencher with Weasley, and a below-average student in class. Extremely private and socially inadept."

 _Sounds about right._

"-and this year, suddenly you are this serious student—at least Mcgonagall says so- and even Snape doesn't mock you that much in class. Diligent student, and trying to get to know _Slytherins."_ Daphne mocked, "—if I didn't know better, I would say that you changed Houses."

 _And you would be right too._

Daphne laughed. Harry decided that he liked her laughter.

"Well, with Voldemort around-" the words remained incomplete as Daphne hissed urgently, making him stop midway — "What?" He asked.

"Do not say the name!" She hissed urgently.

Harry frowned. The previous day, she hadn't even shown a visible reaction to the name. Was that a fluke?

"Fear of a name only makes it stronger!" Harry returned, absently noticing that he had just quoted Dumbledore.

"Yes, and there is something called subtlety as well, Potter." Daphne scoffed.

Harry grimaced. _What went wrong now?_

"Everyone is not _you,_ Potter. Neither is everyone, Albus Dumbledore. The old man is at the Dark Lord's level himself, and you defeated him as a baby. You saying the name, that works. Me? Not so much." Daphne scoffed. "If I utter his name aloud, I will run into trouble. Slytherin is not the litter pool like Gryffindor."

"But-" Harry tried.

"No buts, Potter. Everything isn't black and white as you Gryffindors make it to be. I am a Slytherin. Gryffindors do what is right. Slytherins do what is _necessary_."

"I'm not sure if that sentiment works for people like Malfoy!" Harry refuted.

"Malfoy is a spoiled brat with delusions of grandeur." Daphne cleared.

"Was that why he was threatening you?"

Daphne narrowed her eyes. "That was… different. Malfoy's behaviour is expected. With the dark lord's return, Lucius Malfoy's power is at an all-time high. It is obvious the brat would cash out of it." She looked at him in the eye. "I might not be a dark lord supporter, Potter, but do not mistake me to be a believer of the old fool's policy. I am a neutral—true to the principles."

"I… understand."

"No, you don't." Daphne refuted back. "You wanted to get to know me, fine. I gave you that chance. My life exists on a _fucking balance._ My support shifts with the shift of power—that is the way someone like me can survive."

"So if Vold- the dark lord" Harry observed the minute smile on her lips-"wins, then you would support him?"

"Without question." Came the clear reply.

Harry frowned.

"You might frown as much as you like, Potter, but consider this. Everyone knows that Lucius Malfoy was a big supporter of the dark lord. Why then even after fifteen years of His demise, does Malfoy have the fucking Minister at his payroll? You think that people, including your precious Gryffindors, would fight against the Dark Lord when they run scared of Malfoy?"

"Ron and Hermione would never-" Harry retorted.

"Weasley is in the Light Alliance- Dumbledore will protect him as long as he lives."

"Hermione-"

"Your mudblood friend is only alive because of your presence, Potter."

Whatever anger harry had felt at the comment, it vanished away as curiosity filled him at her remark. "What do you mean… my presence?"

Daphne tilted her head, staring at him speculatively. Finally, she lifted her head backwards and laughed.

"You _really_ don't know?" She snorted again. "I mean, I thought you were naïve but this… this is priceless." She snorted again… "Potter, Potter, Potter- you truly don't realize your importance in the society, don't you?"

Harry's mind went back to the sessions he had had with Sirius, about the history of the Potter family. They weren't nobles, but they had amassed great fortune. He waited for Daphne to explain it.

"You are a scion of an ancient family. Old money, you understand? Plus, with your status as the Boy-who-lived, do you even understand the ways you affect the magical society?"

Harry just stared, waiting for her to continue.

"Merlin, I need beer." Daphne sighed.

"Broomsticks?" Harry offered.

Daphne shrugged.

* * *

The two had occupied a corner, sipping their drinks, with Harry's sole attention being on the girl sitting with him. Anyone who passed them, gave them strange looks, but by now, he had gotten tired of the looks and avoided them completely. As it was, it was something he had lived with ever since he had joined the magical world.

However, that was for later, and Daphne was talking.

"Had it been any other person instead of you Potter, you would have been in Azkaban many times over."

"Wha- why?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Potter? You are asking me this? For the _murder_ of Cedric Diggory, of course."

Harry scowled. "I did not _murder_ Cedric. Volde- I mean, it was-"

Daphne gave a long-suffering sigh. "Amos Diggory, pureblood, holds a high position at the Ministry of Magic, and as you will agree, was over enthusiastic about his son's talents. In fact, he even went on to publicly state that _you, Harry Potter_ wanted to steal away his son's glory."

"And how is that relevant?" Harry asked, no sure where this was going.

"Had this been anyone else, an instant trial would be held, and you would be instantly held up as a bad guy even before being prove guilty."

"But I am innocent." Harry argued.

"I know," Daphne snorted, "in ways more than one."

Harry rolled his eyes. Daphne continued. "You don't understand, Potter. You have never upheld the pureblood traditions and the Diggory family has always been socially and politically active. Each and every of your shortcomings will be taken into account. Like the fact that your mother was a mudblood and you speak Parseltongue."

"But-"

"It's an emotional testimony, Potter. Eighty-five percent of things will be exaggerated."

"And the other fifteen?" Harry returned.

"Does it matter?"

 _No._

Daphne smiled.

"But they can't just accuse-"

"I'm talking about the jury, Potter. I have been studying to become a solicitor by profession, about what the jury sees when they look at a defendant—clothes, hair, speaking style, likability…"

"Likeability? Clothes? What's that's got to do with-" Harry tried, but Daphne continued, "- and I can prove it in ten minutes that it was all a conspiracy made by you to win the Cup." Daphne continued ignoring his interruption. "Watch what else? Why was it Cedric who went with you? It could have been Krum or the Veela, but it just _had to be_ the candidate who had the closest chance to win? Also, by happenstance, it _had_ to be the boy whose father was running a political battle against your candidacy in the tournament? Besides, you went in with Cedric alive, and you returned back with him dead, claiming that a certain dead wizard has come back to life. It could just be a grand lie to hide the truth."

"You think I'm the one who-" Harry tried angrily.

"Doesn't matter. I asked the question, now everybody is thinking about it. You have lost your chance with the jury in the first five minutes."

Harry sat dumbfounded.

"You openly spoke about the dark lord being alive, an information that could simply devastate Fudge's political career. Had it been anyone but you, Potter; they wouldn't have been suffering the character bash you are," Daphne's eyes gleamed, "people like that would just be shoved through the Veil of Death without question."

"The Veil of Death?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "You are way too ignorant, Potter. It's a surprise that you have managed to survive the way you have in this madhouse we call Wizarding Britain."

Harry did not reply.

"Just understand this. You hold a very important position in the system hierarchy. It's because of that why people like Granger are still tolerated at Hogwarts. If not for your protection, Granger would have been mauled to death, for her _ideas and behaviour."_

"If Wizarding Britain hates muggleborns so much, why did they bring them in, in the first place?" Harry hissed in resentment.

"We do not force them, Potter. They entered the magical world on their own. And stop saying like you are a muggleborn. You are a pureblood and an old one at that."

"Well, I do not find being a pureblood particularly appealing." Harry hissed back.

"Then go hide in the muggle world, and see if they let you. And I am not even talking of the Ministry, your own demigod Albus Dumbledore wouldn't allow you to do so…"

 _What?_

"Dumbledore isn't like-" Harry defended. It felt strange, but this wasn't related to his own issues with the old man.

Daphne laughed. "Oh, you think so? Pray tell me, why?"

"Dumbledore is tolerant towards every magical creature. He allowed Professor Lupin to get educated at Hogwarts, despite suffering from Lycanthropy."

"And _Professor Lupin_ is the _only magical child to be bitten by a werewolf?"_ Daphne sneered. "Do you even have an idea about how large the werewolf packs are? Or how small the children are, when they get bitten and changed?"

Harry gasped for words, but found none.

"And I'm sure, that the fact that Professor Lupin got admitted to Hogwarts had _absolutely nothing to do_ with the fact that his parents were Dumbledore-supporters." Daphne drawled.

Harry felt his throat go dry.

"Everyone has agendas, Potter. Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, Minister Fudge, Daily Prophet- everyone has their individual agendas. If you do not keep up, you are either going to be ridiculed or silenced forever. Or worse, used by each and every one of them to promote their own."

Harry did not like the logic she was throwing at him. However, that did not mean that he did not agree. It was painful, but it also made sense. Nobody did things because it was the right thing to do, everybody did things because it fitted their agendas. Daphne's words resounded in his mind.

 _Gryffindors do what is right. Slytherins do what it necessary._

"It seems like everyone up there in the hierarchy behaves like a Slytherin." Harry jested, laughing mirthlessly inside.

"Well we have a proverb in Slytherin house- they sort too soon because a couple of years later, everyone would just run for Slytherin." Daphne chortled.

Harry laughed mirthlessly.

"As it is, Malfoy will soon become the Lord Black upon the end of the next month." Daphne stated, ignoring the little smirk on Harry's face, "-his power will dramatically rise, both in and out of Hogwarts, and hence, it is necessary to keep him from causing me problems, and why are you smirking like you won the damned Witch-weekly's most charming smile award?"

Harry grinned, placing his left fist upon the table.

The huge onyx ring on his ring finger glinted.

Daphne's lips curled up in a smile. "Tell me Potter, would you like to be my boyfriend?"


	9. Chapter 9: Confrontations

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _"As it is, Malfoy will soon become the Lord Black upon the end of the next month." Daphne stated, ignoring the little smirk on Harry's face, "-his power will dramatically rise, both in and out of Hogwarts, and hence, it is necessary to keep him from causing me problems, and why are you smirking like you won the damned Witch-weekly's most charming smile award?"_

 _Harry grinned, placing his left fist upon the table._

 _The huge onyx ring on his ring finger glinted._

 _Daphne's lips curled up in a smile. "Tell me Potter, would you like to be my boyfriend?"_

* * *

Harry Potter had never boasted about himself being overly intelligent. Hell, he had grown up believing that he was a Freak for ten years at the Dursleys. Upon entering the Wizarding world at the age of eleven, he had been shoved with the mantle of being the 'Boy-who-lived', and had to weave his way through the madhouse called Wizarding Britain. While all of that was true, there was also the fact that the events post the dementor attack had been quite significant for him, and he had begun to slowly understand the way things happened, and why things happened the way they did. He might not have been overtly clever or anything, but he was no fool. This girl, no matter how beautiful she was, or how attractive he found her, also had an agenda. The funny thing was, she had stated it loud and clear.

' _I am a neutral, whose life exists on a balance—and my support shifts with the shift of power.'_

He liked Greengrass, and was attracted to her. He could agree with that one. However, Daphne Greengrass had proven herself to be a quintessential Slytherin, someone who truly had the values that Slytherin House stood for- resourcefulness, ambition and tradition. She had downright understood the possibilities and the perks of being a close acquaintance of the Lord Black, and had instantly offered to be in a relationship with him, despite the fact that today was the first time the two had even had a proper discussion together. Such precision and resourcefulness on her part made her an extremely cunning predator. However, despite her own predatory instincts, her words held raw truth in them, and if Harry had to keep up with everyone else, he would need her expertise. The problem was, he wasn't sure about the true mindset that ruled Daphne Greengrass.

Harry considered her offer. "While it is a potentially intriguing offer, I must say that I am quite… surprised by the suddenness of it all."

"Oh."

"I am not sure _why_ you want to be in any form of relationship with someone you have barely spent a day together."

Daphne frowned. She wasn't sure if Potter was actually trying to fish for answers, or simply trying to play 'hard to get'. After all, she herself had bolstered his ego, and his position in the Wizarding World. It had come as a complete surprise to her, when Potter had nonchalantly displayed the Black signet ring, giving away his position as not only the heir, but also as the Lord of Black. The problem was—she couldn't understand what was running in his mind. While she was pretty good at deduction, Potter's face gave nothing away at the moment. Daphne marvelled at how the Gryffindor could act as a Slytherin one moment and revert back to his Gryffindorish tendencies the next. Potter, truly was an enigma.

"I thought you were _interested_ in me…" She returned softly.

"I admit I am," Harry confessed absently, playing with the signet ring still shining in his left hand. "But then again, you yourself admitted about your _support_ shifting with the change of power. How can I trust you not to simply backstab me the moment something better walks through the door?"

Daphne smirked. "I will make a Slytherin out of you yet, Potter." She chortled. "You are right. While I don't really have a likeness for the Slytherin amusements of backstabbing and betrayal, my support will shift with the change of power. Then again, the two powers at the moment are Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. The Ministry is simply a mere pawn for the titans to play at will."

She slowly pushed herself a little towards him. "Can you show me a third party to support, Potter?" Her voice had a seductive tone to it. "Are you giving me a third option, Potter?"

An old memory resurfaced in Harry's mind at that, something Moody had once mentioned as an offhanded comment.

 _The Ministry or the Order… the lack of a third choice has prevented a lot of real troops from actively participating in the fight…_

"What are you asking of me, Greengrass? To rally citizens to my side and take up a career in politicking?"

Daphne fixed him with a blank stare. "I am asking what you are prepared to do. You say you aren't sure of my stance. Well, tell me this, how can I be sure that when the time comes, you won't allow the man to domineer over your choices?"

She pulled herself back. "Dumbledore, Lockhart, and Minister Fudge—all have had used your fame and cashed on it on multiple occasions, while reducing you to a puppet to domineer over. What's the guarantee that you won't allow them to do so in future?"

Harry didn't reply. It was harsh, but there was truth in her words. He knew that he had power. Tons of it. But skill? He was unskilled. Simply having an arsenal of spells didn't make someone an exceptional wizard. Knowledge and experience towered over everything. Dumbledore and Voldemort both were epitomes of that truth. No matter what one said, everyone tried to steer clear of the two titans, since everyone understood one simple thing.

It would be a folly to be on their bad side.

"I think we can both agree that we are not in love with each other. But ponder over this, Potter. I can help you to understand and exercise that power and influence you have at your fingertips. In return, being your girlfriend would keep me protected under the same power. It's a mutually symbiotic relationship. Besides, you know you are attracted to me, and I personally have no issues against you. By the end of the term, my father would perhaps forcefully betroth me to one of the children of the Dark Alliance. As it is, you can't be worse than Malfoy. Where are the disadvantages?"

 _Point._

"What about Him? The Dark Lord?" Harry asked finally.

Daphne smiled. It was a good sign, since his line of questioning showed that he was seriously considering the proposal.

"I don't worry about my safety. After all, you are responsible for me, being my boyfriend." She retorted.

"And you just decided that I will value your life to be of supreme importance because of that?" Harry refuted.

"Of course, you are a Gryffindor."

Harry suppressed the urge to bang his head on the table in front of him. The girl was good, very good- he had to give it to her- her sense of logic was impeccable.

"Plus I am sure you, like most other boys, fantasize about the perks of being in a relationship with an attractive girl." Daphne stated blandly, smirking at the way Harry tried his best not to look flushed.

"I have a condition." Harry stated with a finality in his voice. "I am to understand that you and Hermione do not share the _best of relationships…_ however, I would like it if you do not use the offensive word you are so fond of using." Daphne opened her mouth to say something but Harry cut her off- "and besides, if you want a third side, you better stop ingratiating towards the principles of the Pureblood fraternity. I might agree to your logic, but I believe in equality, for magicals—and that includes people and creatures alike."

"Yes, sir." Daphne mocked.

Harry sat up a little relaxed. "I must confess I never thought I would get into a relationship full of such political machinations."

Daphne smirked. "So what did you expect, my dear _Harry,_ love and kisses and bouquet of flowers?"

"Wouldn't be too bad." Harry shrugged.

"Given how _eloquent_ you get in front of me, I wouldn't bet on that chance…" Daphne mocked, as she chortled at his expense.

Harry sighed.

* * *

The news that Harry Potter had been on a surprise date with the illustrious, and slightly intimidating Daphne Greengrass had become the talk of the entire castle before the couple traced their way back to Hogwarts. Strangely enough, Malfoy or his cohorts hadn't intervened during the date, despite the fact that they had been in public all the time. There was even a moment when their paths crossed Mcgonagall, who was entering the Three Broomsticks with Flitwick and Hagrid. The stern old woman had raised her eyebrows in blatant surprise at the unexpected pair, since it had been many years since she had spotted a Gryffindor and a Slytherin spending time together publicly. However, as it seemed, Harry Potter never did things by half. She hoped the boy knew what he was doing.

The pair walked back along the village path, walking together towards the Hogwarts grounds, talking with each other, with Harry occasionally uttering something funny and Daphne snorting at it. The thing was, Harry felt good being with her.

"What happens now? I mean, Malfoy isn't going to take this nicely." Harry wondered.

"Aww," Daphne cooed, "are you going to be so overprotective of me even after marriage?"

That shut him up.

"I would bet on my entire trust vault that Malfoy would be throwing a big fit. That reminds me, how did you get the Lordship? I thought, Malfoy was getting it from his mother."

"Well, he would, but the blood heir decided to make things go differently." Harry answered casually, as they strolled down the street to the grounds.

"The blood heir… you mean, Sirius Black? But he-" Her eyes widened as it hit her, "Black was the dark lord's supporter. Why would he-?"

The question died in her throat as she noticed him smirking at her. "Morgana's damned tits, Sirius Black isn't the dark Lord's supporter?"

"Sirius is actually my godfather." Harry explained.

"Your—godfather," Daphne stuttered uncharacteristically, "but then, he, I mean, he betrayed your parents to-"

"He did no such thing." Harry retorted coldly, a sneer forming on his face. "He is innocent."

Daphne face-palmed. "This is blowing my mind."

"I appreciate that." Harry replied evenly.

Daphne shot him a glare. Her eyes then softened as a smile formed on her full pink lips. "Then, poor Draco is up for a nice, little surprise."

* * *

 **Later in the Slytherin dungeons…**

"This is priceless, Daph! More than Morgana's tits, I mean, _you_ and _Harry fucking Potter?"_ Tracy screamed out enthusiastically.

"Louder Tracy!" Daphne scoffed. "Your voice isn't loud enough to reach the common room!"

Tracy ignored her sarcasm and looked like Christmas had come early for her. "Tell me," She all but jumped to her friend who was sitting on the bed, "How did this happen? And details! I want details!"

Daphne fixed her with a glare.

Tracy ignored it completely, looking at her with puppy-dog eyes. "Come now, Daphne, ain't I your friend? Your closest friend?"

"Smooth Tracey. Real smooth." Daphne chortled at her friend's antics. Pushing the other girl over and settling down comfortably on the bed, she sighed. "It's more of a mutual agreement, really, than an actual relationship and-"

"But it's _Harry Potter!"_

Daphne rolled her eyes. She had forgotten that this was the girl who had her room walls decorated with the Boy-who-lived posters at her home. Forget the little Weasley, Tracy Davis had a dragon-sized crush on Harry Potter, ever since she had begun to read those _Adventures of Harry Potter_ books. While her friend was one of the most level-headed persons she had happened to meet, the girl's crush on Potter bordered on insane obsession, given how she would turn all mushy when his name was mentioned. Daphne suspected that the auburn-haired girl had some kind of multiple-personality disorder or something- she had read about it from the muggle books.

"Okay _fine!"_ Daphne hissed in slight irritation. " _Harry_ and I are in a relationship. He is attracted to me, which is more than visible to us both-" -"Lucky you", Tracy replied jealously- " and well, we agreed that being in a formal relationship will strengthen both of our positions, and so, we decided to bring forth this… well, amalgamation." Daphne finished, hoping that Tracy would drop the line of questioning from her heavy-words.

She had hoped in vain.

"Annnd?" Tracy drawled, "did you kiss?"

For the first time, Daphne blushed; surprising herself that she could actually blush over a boy. "No."

Tracy scowled. The expression stood there on her face for a moment before her face shifted into one of inquisitiveness.

"Do you think he is a good kisser?"

Daphne groaned.

"But Daph," Tracy began, her voice a little tensed, "Malfoy isn't going to take it lightly. He will try causing trouble for you, especially considering his-"

Her words died midway as there was a knock on the door.

Daphne got up, her wand spinning into her palm. Knowing Slytherin House, anything could happen at any moment. However, the fact that the wards outside her room did not flare up meant that whoever it was outside, she did not have any negative intent towards her. Thank Merlin for intent-based wards.

"Who is it?"

"It's Millicent. There is a House Assembly being called outside."

 _Damn!_

There was no other explanation required. Of all the times, the brat had chosen to behave like a Slytherin on this occasion. She had thought that Malfoy would directly face her and _demand answers_ like he did. Daphne could deal with that—as it was, she was better at wands than him.

The House Assembly however, was a completely different box of flubberworms.

Unlike other Houses, Slytherin House had an established internal hierarchy—a system that had been followed ever since the great Slytherin was the House Master at Hogwarts. Salazar Slytherin knew it well that people rich in resourcefulness and ambition would not be cowed by something like a Prefect position so easily. Hence, a system of House Assembly had been framed with the House Prefects being the nominal judges for the occasion. The rule for Slytherin House was that internal matters were exactly that… internal. Any kind of altercation between Slytherins was solved within the confines of the dungeons, and if the matter was of some reasonable importance, it would be presented in front of the House Assembly. The point was- if the House Assembly demanded answers, answers would have to be given without delay. The results otherwise would become highly… _unpleasant._

She quickly put on a proper robe and slipped her wand back in the holster strapped to her arm. The House Assembly was not something to be taken lightly.

There was now, just one single thing left to do.

* * *

"We have gathered here for the assembly to accuse one of us for something no less than treason, to our House, to our beliefs and traditions, and to our faith in the Dark Lord." Malfoy spoke, as the entire Assembly listened with rapt attention, "-and I call upon the Assembly to judge Daphne Victoria Greengrass for her actions."

Daphne almost rolled her eyes. Almost.

"Go ahead, Draco." Augustin Flint, seventh year spoke up.

"Greengrass here went ahead to disgraced Slytherin House by whoring herself to _Potter,"_ Draco sneered, "—I want her disgraced just like the way she disgraced us."

"Greengrass, how do you plead?"

Daphne composed herself.

"You will get one chance to explain your doings." Flint stated.

Daphne took a deep breath. This was one chance that she would get; a chance that could make it or break it for her in Slytherin House.

"It is true that I sought an acquaintance with Harry James Potter."

Instantly a cacophony of noises filled in the House Assembly, mostly by children of Death eaters or sympathizers. A few exceptions, like Blaise Zabini, Tracy Davis and Millicent Bulstrode kept silent.

"Why would you do that?" Theodore Nott, heir to the Nott fortune spoke up. Theodore was one of the true Slytherins of their year, much like Daphne herself. It was a pity that he allowed his father's doctrines to wash over his own sense of judgement.

"It was profitable for me. After all, ambition is one of the cornerstones for the Slytherin mind. Isn't it?" Daphne asked everyone in general. "Everyone here is familiar with the fact that Lord Malfoy is interested in a betrothal contract with my family, and my father has shown an interest in it too."

She paused. "I resent that, and hence did what I could to get away from it."

"By latching yourself to _Potter?_ You think that it will save you? _"_ Draco hissed. _"_ You forget, Greengrass. Your father is in the Dark Alliance, and by extension, is bound to accept the conditions placed by the leader of the alliance."

Daphne cast a frown at him. "I assure you, Draco, I did not forget it."

Draco seemed to have grown up by a couple of inches with his ego. "As the heir and upcoming Lord of Black, the Dark Alliance is mine to command. Previously, you were supposed to be my betrothed, despite your… _rebellious_ behaviour in the past," he sneered, "—but now, now you will be my concubine."

Draco's lips twisted into a cruel smirk. "Of course, you can reject my decision, and suffer the consequences of it. I am not sure the House Assembly would prefer seeing such _miscarriage of tradition_ happening during the session."

Daphne sneered at him, and then, her lips softened to form a smirk. "Well played, Draco. Well played."

Draco looked flustered for a moment at her odd comment. Cursing himself for losing control, he sneered back, "Whatever do you mean, Greengrass?"

"It's simple. I refuse to accept you as the _heir and future Lord of Black."_

"Daphne!" Astoria Greengrass, fourth year and Daphne's younger and _the preferred heiress of Greengrass_ hissed, "What are you doing?"

Daphne smirked.

"Is this a joke, Greengrass?" Malfoy scowled, "I am the heir of Black, and by extension, the next Lord by my upcoming birthday."

"I refuse to take your word on that subject. I believe that _superior contestants_ exist between you and the Black Lordship."

"Do they?" Draco sneered, "Who is it that has the courage to challenge me, Draco Lucius, heir of Malfoy and heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black?"

"I do."

The sudden masculine voice took everyone by surprise, and the moment everyone turned towards the source of the voice, the surprise turned into outright shock.

Harry James Potter was standing, his wand twirling in his right hand, and the large onyx ring, signifying his position as the Lord of Black, shining brightly on the ring finger of his left hand- smirking as he stood at the doorway of the Slytherin common room.

* * *

 **FLASHBACK**

 **A few hours ago…**

" _He did no such thing." Harry retorted coldly, a sneer forming on his face. "He is innocent."_

 _Daphne face-palmed. "This is blowing my mind."_

" _I appreciate that." Harry replied evenly._

 _Daphne shot him a glare. Her eyes then softened as a smile formed on her full pink lips. "Then, poor Draco is up for a nice, little surprise."_

"What do you mean?"

Daphne's smile lit up her lips. "Harry, what do you know about the political influence of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?"

Harry smiled. _Finally!_

This was one moment that could justify all those sessions with Sirius about House nobility and history. All those lessons, all that mugging up and trying to converge his mind around the dry facts, all for this one moment.

"I know that House Black was one of the seven founding members of the Wizengamot, and had been borne out of the remnants of the Ruling House of Grimm. The Black seat commands seven votes, and is the interim commander of the Dark Alliance, though at present the proxy rests on the hands of-"

The words dried in his throat as it hit him. And then, Harry Potter _smiled._

"The Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy wouldn't know what hit it." Daphne explained. "The sole reason why Lucius Malfoy commands such authority over the Ministry is because he, by proxy, holds the reins of the Black Alliance."

"I have a query," Harry raised, a frown floating over his lips, "-even if House Black holds the actual command, it could just cease to do so. I mean, the moment it becomes public that I hold the Black Lordship, the rest of the Houses would cease to do so. They could all just fuse among themselves with Malfoy as their leader. House Black, at the end of the day, is just one House."

Daphne smirked. "Your education in this field is still lacking, _Potter."_ She pursed her lips for a moment, before she continued, "What are the prerequisites for one House to swear fealty to another?"

"They must have a difference in position." Harry answered automatically.

"The Dark Alliance holds seats from the Ancient and Noble families of Selwyn, Nott, Lestrange and Greengrass, the later only because my _father, in all his wisdom,_ decided to bow before the Dark Lord. If House Malfoy intends to command a majority-"

"It must hold a Most Ancient status." The answer came to him automatically. "And that is why, House Black holds the reins of the Alliance."

"Precisely," Daphne grinned. "Even if they break out to form another Alliance, it will be a communion of equals, not one with a leader."

Harry nodded. "Is that why you jumped into a relationship with me? A relationship with the commander of the Dark Alliance would be seen as a perfectly Slytherin venture by your father."

"Of course, Potter. Give me some credit. I am a Slytherin."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"As for now, every House in the Dark Alliance has sworn fealty to House Black, and thus, by extension, House Malfoy." Daphne continued, "the fealty cannot be broken without proper reason, and of course, not before the next official session of the Wizengamot, which is during the Winter solstice. That gives you-"

"Two months to create my own block." Harry answered, gaining a little more clarity to the picture.

"As I said, I will still be able to make a Slytherin out of you." Daphne smirked. "That said, Malfoy is going to cause a ruckus tonight, most possibly in the common room with his cohorts, trying to cower me by displaying his _apparent_ House superiority."

"And?"

"While I am confident not to have any _issues,_ dealing with the brat, I might just have a contingency in place, if things turn sour." She took out a pair of sickles from her robes and handed it to him. "This is a communication device I have been working on since third year."

She held out the other coin. "That is yours, and this is mine. My best friend Tracy has another."

"How do these work?"

"A modified switching charm, although it's not completely ready yet. The runes on your coin connect the charms to mine. The reverse also holds true. You will need to hold onto the coin tightly and speak out. It can only hold in for thirty seconds so you need to say things clear and to the point."

"You made telephones using coins." Harry answered, amazed at her ingenuity.

"While I admit that I got the idea from the muggle devices, these coins could be made much better than them. No calling costs, for one thing." She shrugged. "It was essential, given how _anything can happen inside the Snake Pit._ Constant Vigilance, and all that." She glanced at the surprised look on his face, "What? You thought Moody invented the damn word?"

Harry chortled.

"If things turn sour, I might need some help, considering that the entire House would look at it with tainted glasses. You are not exactly, a reputable person in our House."

Harry laughed.

"Worse comes to worst, I might need you to come to the Slytherin common room. The way is-"

"The empty wall two pillars away from Snape's office."

Daphne's eyes went wide as saucers.

"How in Hell do you know that?" The exasperation and surprise was distinct in her voice.

"I have my ways..." Harry returned evasively.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Right. The Password this year is Resurgence."

"Dark Lord themed?" Harry asked jovially.

"Tell me about it." Daphne muttered.

* * *

 **Sometime after dinner…**

"Concido! Reducto maxima!"

The succession of hexes tore off three of the dummies as it hit them. Harry apparated out of the incoming hex and reappeared right behind another dummy. A single flash of purple and the entire dummy disintegrated to dust.

Harry grunted. The dark version of the pulverising curse was very effective indeed. The victim would be slammed with an overwhelming pressure, enough to squeeze his bones and muscles into jelly, if the remnants didn't fly away by the force that is. For completely solid objects like dummies, the curse disintegrated them to dust. It was a very effective curse, but like most dark curses, could be handled with the correct counter and shield.

 _Counter curses. That is something I need to study. Can't afford to let someone die only because I didn't know the counter._

He had been practicing, and was glad to find that he had lasted twenty seconds more this time. It wasn't awesome but it was significant. Twenty seconds meant something when you can only apparate with five opponents shooting curses at you in a limited field size.

He was just about to practice the whirlwind spell, a Black family spell when, the sickle in his chest pocket began vibrating powerfully. He paused, and with the wave of his wand, the dummies vanished into thin air. He took the coin out and realized that Daphne hadn't told him how to receive calls. Going by instinct, he pressed the coin hard with his fingers and felt some of his power get soaked into the coin as the runes glowed momentarily.

"Trouble. Come to common room. Instantly."

The voice message was short and precise, and it conveyed the message perfectly. However, the Slytherin common room was in the dungeons and he was up on the seventh floor. Even if he ran his way downwards, it would still take some time. It was a curse that apparation-

The thoughts stopped as an idea struck him.

 _The Room of Requirement._

He closed his eyes as he faced a wall, the image of the dungeons, clear in his mind. He focussed on the engraved serpent he had seen a few feet away from Snape's office. He felt the magic around him twist and churn and then by instinct, opened his eyes.

In front of him was an open door facing the engraved serpent.

 _You gott'a love magic!_

Quickly, he tapped his head with his wand, letting the cold feeling flow through his body, as the disillusionment charm took effect. For good measure, he applied a modified silencing charm as well. After so many days of practicing it, he was barely a ripple in the air. A smirk floating on his face, he walked out of the Room.

The Slytherin common room looked just as he remembered. He touched the wall, just like Malfoy had done in his second year and whispered, "Resurgence." The wall cracked silently, allowing him to walk through the narrow portal. He couldn't even feel it when the door closed silently behind him.

The entrance was empty. Remembering the passage to the common room, he walked towards the common room and-

It was teeming with people. It seemed the entire House had assembled in the common room for some kind of meeting. He briefly wished he wasn't late. His worries faded as he heard her.

"It's simple. I refuse to accept you as the _heir and future Lord of Black."_

Harry grimaced. That girl had a bountiful amount of biting remarks up her sleeve.

"Daphne!" He heard another girl say, and walked up a little ahead, making sure he was still unseen.

"Is this a joke, Greengrass?" Malfoy was openly scowling, "I am the heir of Black, and by extension, the next Lord by my upcoming birthday."

Harry resisted the incredible urge to chuckle.

"I refuse to take your word on that subject. I believe that _superior contestants_ exist between you and the Black Lordship." Daphne confronted.

"Do they?" Draco sneered, "Who is it that has the courage to challenge me, Draco Lucius, heir of Malfoy and heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black?"

This was the moment. Harry allowed the disillusionment and the silencing charms to fade off completely. He took a step forward, as he projected his will as the Lord of Black, the signet ring materialising on his finger and shining vibrantly.

"I do."

The sudden masculine voice took everyone by surprise, and the moment everyone turned towards the source of the voice, the surprise turned into outright shock.

Harry James Potter was standing, his wand twirling in his right hand, and the large onyx ring, signifying his position as the Lord of Black, shining brightly on the ring finger of his left hand- smirking as he stood at the doorway of the Slytherin common room.

* * *

 **Back to the present…**

"Wha- _POTTER!"_ Malfoy screamed, " _What_ are you doing here, in the _Slytherin_ common room?"

Harry took a glance at the change of stance in the common room. Almost the majority of the people there had their wands out, either standing down or in a defensive gesture.

Malfoy took a step forward.

"I repeat, what is a _Gryffindor_ like you, doing in the Slytherin common room?"

"I didn't know it was illegal for Houses to enter into each other's common rooms. Why the concept of inter-house unity and-" Harry strayed, enjoying the scowl deepening on Malfoy's face.

"This is not _Gryffindor!"_ Draco screamed, "this is _Slytherin._ You have no right to be here."

"On the contrary, you will find that I have every right to be here, especially when I am being impersonated by someone else."

"What childish dream is this? Who is going to impersonate _you?"_

" _You."_ Harry continued, in his composed tone. "A moment before, you were impersonating as the _heir and future Lord of Black!"_

"I _am_ the heir and future Lord of Black. Who are you to say otherwise?" Malfoy screamed with rage.

Harry smirked, as he brought his left fist slightly upward, playing with the large signet ring on his ring finger.

"That- that-" Pansy stammered, "that is the crest of the House of Black!"

"You are right, Parkinson!" Harry answered, "this is the crest of the House of Black. Do you know what it means?"

" _You_ are the Lord of House Black?" Theo questioned, his eyes narrowed.

"Precisely, Nott." Daphne answered in Harry's place. She walked across the floor to stand with Harry. " _Harry_ here, is the present Lord of Black!"

"And since when is Potter, _Harry_ to you?" This one came from the illusive and infamously neutral Blaise Zabini, who seemed to watch the proceedings with great interest.

"Since she became my girlfriend, and that being such, she is under the official protection of the Most Ancient families of Potter and Black. I hope that is enough to warrant my presence here?" Harry answered for her.

"I object," Draco snarled. "Potter is an imposter. I am the legal heir to the Black Lordship through my mother Narcissa Druella Malfoy nee Black. Potter's mother was a _mudblood._ "

"Thank you for pointing that out," Harry replied, almost genially, surprising everyone. "I am of Black blood, descended from my great-grandmother Dorea Potter Nee Black, the sister of Arcturus Sirius, the previous Lord of Black. However, all of that is moot point, since the present and surviving _blood heir,_ Sirius Orion Black, is my godfather and presently, my adopted father. That makes _me_ the legal heir, and as you can see, my adoptive father has no qualms over receding the Black lordship to me."

"YOU ARE LYING!" Draco screamed, "My father told me that I am the heir. You are LYING!"

"Enough, Draco!" Theodore scoffed, making everyone glance at the usually reserved and reclusive Slytherin fifth-year. "Stop behaving like a petulant child. Potter wears the ring, and has even given proof of his genealogy. You cannot even touch a Lord's ring unless you have the family blood flowing through your veins."

Draco sneered back. "Know your place, Nott. My father leads the Dark Alliance."

"The Black family leads the Dark Alliance." Daphne retorted. "Your father held the reins by proxy of the Black seat. Now, the Black seat isn't yours. It's Potter's. You are now, an _Ancient and noble family,_ at par with House Greengrass, Nott, Lestrange and Selwyn. _Know your place, Draco."_

Draco looked at her murderously. Almost instinctually, Crabbe and Goyle walked over, to stand behind him.

"Ahem," harry intervened, "While all of this is potentially intriguing, I am only here to protect my interest, that is- Daphne Greengrass herself. As for the Dark Alliance, I understand that you might wish to break away to form your own independent stronghold. However, you might be interested in holding a meeting about the objectives of the _real_ Lord of Black, I welcome you to a party sometime next week. I am sure my girlfriend will be able to inform every one of the timings."

"There is nothing to learn about your _objectives, Potter."_ Flint exclaimed, "everyone knows that you are Dumbledore's golden boy."

"If you are so sure of that, you have no need to be there at the meeting." Harry countered dismissively.

"ENOUGH!" Malfoy raged, walking towards Harry aggressively. The Black signet ring vibrated powerfully, telling him to use his family magic against the intruding family member, who was effectively betraying him.

"I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, challenge you to an _honour duel_ over the Black Lordship!"

"You can't!" Theo snapped. "An honour duel works between _equals_. Potter here holds at least one Lordship. He has the entire fortune of the Black and Potter families at his beck and call. You on the other hand, have right only to your trust vault."

Daphne smiled at the boy. It seemed the young Nott had truly understood the significance of the events.

"I concur." Blaise agreed from the side lines.

"Would you like to challenge me, over your trust Vault, cousin?" Harry returned, his tone amused at the turn of events. "I assure you, my trust Vaults hold much more than yours. As you well know, I am not an exhibitionist over robes."

Malfoy snarled. It was beyond what he could bear. He had thought that calling in the House Assembly would give him a significant edge against Greengrass, but now, he found his own plan crumble in front of his very eyes.

"I agree." He sneered.

Augustin Flint walked up front. "By permission of Professor Snape, I am authorized to undersee duels happening in the Slytherin common room."

"By the laws then, I am ready to duel my cousin over an honour duel." Harry agreed, his wand twirling in his hand.

The central zone of the room was instantly deserted as everyone pushed back towards the walls, leaving the two duellists to battle in the centre. Augustin waved his wand, as wards materialised all around the two duellists like a ring, a necessary equipment to prevent any stray spell from hitting a spectator by accident. It also prevented anyone from the audience from intervening in the duel. A _fair_ event, contrasting to famous Slytherin amusements of backstabbing.

"Three, two, one… DUEL!" Augustin commanded, as Draco instantly shot off a decapitation curse at Harry. Clearly, the boy wasn't duelling wearing kid gloves.

Harry crouched, allowing the spell to traverse over his head, hitting the wards behind him which glowed an angry red. Draco sneered as the curse missed his nemesis.

Harry whipped his wand, and whispered, "Stupefy!"

The red colour of the stunner was distinctly visible, and a couple of people chortled at Potter's poor choice of spells. Malfoy instantly parried the stunner and sent back a dark version of the stunner instead. Harry whipped a blasting curse which met the stunner midway, resulting in a thick smoke midway.

"Ventus!" He whispered, as a gust of wind blew the smoke towards Malfoy who coughed, never having a chance to defend against the petrifaction hex sent his way.

"Harry Potter wins the honour duel! Draco Malfoy, you are obligated to transfer the contents of your trust vault to Harry James Potter." Augustin ordered.

Harry whipped his wand again as the petrifaction spell faded away, leaving a scowling Draco Malfoy on the ground.

"I suppose there is more to duelling than knowing dark curses, isn't it, Malfoy?" Harry smirked.

"Was that how you killed Cedric?" Draco sneered.

 _What?_

Draco got up, rejecting the aid from his henchmen. "You won the duel using the smokescreen. A poor attempt at cheating. I suppose you killed the Hufflepuff using such tactics." He sneered.

"I did not kill Cedric." Harry countered evenly, the blonde's words getting to him. "He was murdered by Voldemort."

"Bah!" Draco retorted. "You killed Diggory, in an attempt to acquire more fame; just like you allowed your mudblood mother to die for-"

Draco couldn't speak any further, his throat was already inflamed as an overwhelming pressure made him succumb as he grabbed his throat, gasping in pain. Everyone saw Draco Malfoy, the self-appointed Prince of Slytherin, slowly get levitated in the air, gasping and holding his throat, as he was slowly pulled up from the ground.

Harry Potter walked up to him, taking one single step at a time, his wand raised in front of him. And then, he spoke. " _Never, again, repeat that in the future, Draco Malfoy, or else it will be your last mistake."_

At that moment, no one tried to even stop him. Magic was rolling off him in waves, as his aura flickered brightly, with his bright green eyes pulsing with eldritch flames. At that moment, everyone in the room understood why Harry Potter was the one who had brought about the unfortunate demise as a mere toddler.

"Harry- Harry," Daphne was saying from behind him, but it seemed as if she was miles away, as only a slight whisper to him, "Harry leave him, or he will die."

Harry didn't move, his fingers tight around his wand. Draco continued whimpering and gasping, his fingers around his neck.

"Potter!" Theodore Nott called up. "Let him go or Draco will die."

"Harry please." Daphne tried again. The rest were too scared or shocked to say anything.

Slowly, his fingers loosened, as Draco was dumped down on the floor, spread-eagled, gasping for breath. Harry allowed his wand to run back into the holster, as he moved back slowly, feeling the wards getting dropped, indicating that the duel was now over. He turned towards Daphne, who smiled hesitantly, as he took a step towards her only to-

"Lacero forte," Draco bellowed, using whatever remained of his energy, sending the pale yellow curse at Harry.

"HARRY-" Daphne screamed.

A number of things happened. Harry Potter spun around, lightning fast, as his hand moved up automatically, forming a pale silvery shield around his person, as the curse slammed against it, dispersing in a couple of seconds. His wand came down spinning into his palm, as he pointed it towards the fallen boy, who seemed helpless for a moment. Harry's mind clouded as he allowed his magic to take over.

" _Ossis Fragmen!"_

Barely had the thought materialised in his mind, that the spell manifested itself, flowing out of his faithful holly wand, shooting out at the boy fallen spread-eagled, on the floor. The magenta coloured spell lit up the area as it hit Draco Malfoy right in the abdomen, breaking a couple of his bones, making the boy shriek out in pain and agony.

"Curse you, Potter!" The blonde boy yelled, at the same time, trying his level best to control himself from crying out in pain.

Harry levelled his wand towards Draco, right in the eye. The wand edged closer, standing dangerously close to the boy's face. "Tell me _cousin_ , what is there to stop me from sending another spell right between your eyes? I bet from this distance, it would hurt… _a lot."_

Draco gulped.

"You have been a nuisance for a long, long time, Draco Malfoy. _You shall never trouble me, ever, ever again."_

The last statement flowed down his lips almost like a command, and almost in unison, Draco Malfoy _obeyed,_ as if his entire mind set changed as the command registered in his mind. Had anyone noticed, they would have observed the sudden cloudiness that gathered over the blonde's eyes for a moment, before his eyes cleared.

"I-, I- understand. Potter."

Harry slowly lifted the wand off Draco's face. "I want to make some things extremely clear. I am not responsible for Cedric Diggory's death. You all know who is, and I honestly don't give two knuts over whether you want to accept it or not…but I will tell you this. I am done with the hate and the bashing. Attack me or my girlfriend without provocation, and I will destroy you all. Taunt me without reason, and I will teach you pain."

The entire Hall stood silent as Harry Potter stood up, and walked out of the Slytherin common room.

"Pshew! That was intense!" Blaise Zabini commented finally, as the Slytherins looked at each other in silence.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: For those who haven't noticed it yet, i changed the picture in the background image part, and replaced it with an image of how I imagine Amarok looks like. Do let me know what you think of it?  
**


	10. Chapter 10: Aftermath

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _Harry slowly lifted the wand off Draco's face. "I want to make some things extremely clear. I am not responsible for Cedric Diggory's death. You all know who is, and I honestly don't give two knuts over whether you want to accept it or not…but I will tell you this. I am done with the hate and the bashing. Attack me or my girlfriend without provocation, and I will destroy you all. Taunt me without reason, and I will teach you pain."_

 _The entire Hall stood silent as Harry Potter stood up, and walked out of the Slytherin common room._

 _"Pshew! That was intense!" Blaise Zabini commented finally, as the Slytherins looked at each other in silence._

* * *

 **The next day…**

"Come in, Harry."

Closing the door slowly, Harry stepped inside the Headmaster's office. For some reason, Fawkes was missing from the perch. The Headmaster of Hogwarts sat behind the large table, his bright blue eyes casting a piercing stare at Harry who quietly took a seat.

"How is your practice going on?"

"Fifty-five seconds." Harry answered sombrely. He wasn't very proud of it. The Headmaster had been very clear about the deal- he had to survive for five minutes without a single hit, a feat that seemed almost impossible to him, considering how taxing continuous apparation was.

"Fifty-five seconds. Not even a minute yet."

Harry looked down. He didn't want Dumbledore to tell him how disappointed he felt.

"And despite all of that, you are quite… actively seeking out confrontations with Slytherin House."

"Excuse me?" Harry returned, looking up at the old man. Instantly a piercing stare drove into his mind, shattering his mental barriers almost instantly, as Harry _somehow_ managed to look away. The aggressive attack receded instantly.

"Your Occlumency isn't up to the mark yet."

Feeling tired of these cold, discreet statements, Harry answered, "Is there a point to this… treatment, Professor?"

"Yes." The old man got up, though his behaviour showed that the dotty old man had left the room, and the defeater of Grindelwald had replaced him. "Your relationship with Miss Greengrass has made news all across the town."

"Excuse me?" Harry repeated. "I didn't think that my personal life was subject to your decisions."

"I am disappointed in you, Harry."

Harry grit his teeth. "And what," He controlled his anger, although just barely, "-have I done to deserve such… treatment?"

Dumbledore spun towards him. "You went into an amorous relationship with Miss Greengrass, knowing that her parents are Death eater sympathizers."

"I think you are being unable to understand that the sins of the parents _do not_ necessarily pass into the children, Headmaster." Harry returned swiftly. "It seems you and Professor Snape both suffer from that shortcoming."

"You broke into Slytherin House, and challenged Draco Malfoy, an attempt that almost killed him, and all of this right in front of the entire Slytherin House Assembly. _Also,_ you are accused of using _silent, dark magic_ while _torturing_ Mister Malfoy."

"He attacked me first. He challenged me."

"And you just had to accept it? Didn't you?" Dumbledore barked, his face showing genuine anger for the first time.

Harry stayed silent.

"You showed off your duelling skills in front of the Slytherin students, and also, humiliated Draco Malfoy in the process. Importantly, you used advanced and dark, illegal magic while doing so."

 _What?_

"Professor, I don't under-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME! YOU USED THE IMPERIUS ON DRACO MALFOY IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE SLYTHERIN HOUSE!" Dumbledore thundered.

 _What?_

"Professor," Harry returned, keeping as much calm as he could, "I do not know how you came to this conclusion, but I _did not_ cast the Imperius curse at Malfoy."

" _Swear to it."_ The usually-genial Headmaster hissed. "Swear to it that you didn't."

Harry did not wait for a second. His face shifted into one of cold indifference. His wand shot out of his wand holster, and he held it upward, facing the heavens. "I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic that I _did not_ use the Imperius curse on Draco Malfoy. The only questionable curse that I used on him was a single _bone-breaker._ So have I sworn, so mote it be. _"_

A bluish sheen radiated out of his torso, as he felt the oath take effect. Feeling slightly disoriented, he waved his wand and cast a _Lumos_ charm, which glowed brightly at his wand tip.

Dumbledore sighed, as he slowly sat down on the chair. He glanced at the cold look at the boy's face in front of him-a look that he had faced only once a year ago, in a similar situation, over the choosing of the champions in the Triwizard tournament.

"I am sorry, my boy," Dumbledore answered in a soft voice, "I misjudged you."

"You did." Harry returned coldly.

"You must understand my boy; Mister Malfoy's condition is similar to Imperiused victims. He has been rather, _frantic_ to be _away_ from you, so far as to ask Professor Snape to allow him to withdraw his name from Hogwarts, so that he can be _away_ from you. His mental condition is rejecting all logic and emotion, with some kind of _abstract fear_ in him that propels him to be away from you."

That shut Harry up.

"I will be honest with you, Harry. I know very well that you have been pursuing studies into dark magic recently, for increasing your spell repertoire from the Black library. Alastor himself vouched for you, and it helps you more than you can imagine. I confess, Mr. Malfoy's behaviour suggested that he was under the effect of some kind of dark, mind-altering curse."

"Couldn't Snape do anything?" Harry returned hastily, before wincing at his choice of words, "I mean, I heard that Professor Snape knows an awful lot about the dark arts."

"Professor Snape's knowledge of the Dark Arts, all modesty aside, is enough to make him a certified Master on the subject. However, even Professor Snape has no answer to this. The only inference he could come up with is that it was some kind of obscure, family magic." Dumbledore looked at Harry meaningfully.

"I didn't use any obscure Black magic on Malfoy, if that is what you are implying," he answered, "Sir."

"I believe you." Dumbledore answered. "However, the reports also say that you made Mr. Malfoy levitate upwards, while simultaneously trying to throttle him using your magic, though no one heard you muttering anything. That was, to be honest, what led us to believe that you were the culprit, my boy."

"I-" Harry paused, as he rethought about his actions, "I didn't use any curse. I was- angry. I wanted him to stop saying those _lies,"_ \- he gritted his teeth as he spoke, his fists tight, tight enough that his nails dug into his skin- "I didn't cast any curse."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Your magic obeyed you, just like accidental magic."

"Yes." Harry returned, "-like it happened with Marge in my third year." _Or with the Dementors, though I don't remember doing it._ He kept the last statement in his mind, unwilling to share it with the Headmaster.

"Harry, you must understand one thing, and it is very crucial. People like you, me or Lord Voldemort, we have great power, and with it comes great responsibility. If you lose control over your magic, it can begin to control you. For instance, I know for a fact that you _almost killed_ Mister Malfoy when you allowed your magic to take over."

"I- I didn't intend to."

"I know." Dumbledore answered absently. "Harry, you are powerful, way more powerful than your fellow friends and classmates. You are an integral part of the fight against Voldemort, and that is solely the reason why you have been given access to privileged education. You must keep it in mind that this magic that you are learning, it is dangerous, and can have deleterious effects should it go beyond your voluntary control. You haven't been given this special training to show off."

"I did not _show off_ , Headmaster. I only did what was necessary. Malfoy is only so because no one ever considered putting him down to his place."

"If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." Dumbledore answered cryptically.

Harry stood up, his expression hard. "I am not learning this magic to hurt people, if that is what you imply, Headmaster. You have barely taught me anything worthwhile yet, and the only chance I have against _Voldemort_ is my family magic, both Potter and Black. I am sure when Voldemort comes after me, he wouldn't be interested in _'let's throw some stunners at each other and return home'."_

"Harry, I understand-"

"YOU DON'T, HEADMASTER!" Harry yelled back. "You don't. If you did, you would have let me stay at Hogwarts during the summer after I _begged you for it_ at the end of every term. If you did, I wouldn't have to find out from a random stranger that my parents weren't good-for-nothing drunkards. If you did, you wouldn't have allowed all those bastards to taunt and provoke me all these years. If you did, I wouldn't have to watch Cedric die in front of my own eyes and then have Voldemort play with me. I wouldn't have-"

"HARRY!"

The sudden shout from the Headmaster caught him off-guard. His entire body seemed to be shaking, and he felt his palm sweaty. Something, seemed _different._

"Control yourself!" Dumbledore barked.

Not able to understand what he meant, he looked at himself and all around, only to-

 _Damn!_

The entire room seemed like an earthquake had ravaged across the office. The queer-looking artefacts on the table, had all fallen down to the floor, and the books from the shelf had all fallen down. Even the walls showed some disturbing cracks and dust had rained down from the ceiling.

 _Did I- Did I do this?_

"Control your magic, Harry. Don't let it control you." Dumbledore returned sadly.

"I am—I'm sorry," Harry mumbled, before darting out of the office, leaving the old Headmaster alone, in the office.

* * *

As soon as the green-eyed boy departed from the confines of his office, The Headmaster slowly settled down into the comfort of his chair.

"I see that my presence wasn't unwarranted, Headmaster."

The air to his left simmered for a moment as a human outline formed out of nowhere, and in a moment, Severus Snape turned corporeal.

"Yes." Dumbledore sighed. "It seems that young Harry is not in control of his magic, which for some reason, is behaving strangely. I am not sure what I am supposed to infer from this."

"If I might say so, have you considered about it being an aftereffect of the Dark Lord being back? I mean, these strange… developments have occurred after his return."

Dumbledore stayed quiet.

"Even Potter himself has confided in me that his… scar isn't as _active_ as it had been. The way I look at it, it has a very intimate connection with the course of events."

"What do you infer from this, Severus?"

Severus considered his words. "During the last four years at Hogwarts, Potter has been a mediocre student, with a less than average performance in class. His mind was more vulnerable to passive Legilimency than the usual young witch or wizard, his power present but out of voluntary reach, except for situations of extreme stress."

He paused. Dumbledore urged him to continue.

"Then, the Dark Lord returned back from the dead, using _Potter's own blood_ no less. The Dark Lord then got locked in a _battle of wills_ with the boy, something that is beyond my imagination. The boy should have been blasted into smithereens the moment their spells collided. I understand that Potter shares a brother wand with the Dark Lord, but that only explains the _Priori Incantatem,_ not the _battle of wills._ The boy not just locked the Dark Lord in battle, but also _almost defeated_ him."

Dumbledore almost smiled at the other man's tone. It was almost… reverential. Considering it was Harry Potter Severus was talking about, it was certainly a big surprise.

"If I didn't know better Severus, I would call that a glowing recommendation about Harry from you."

"Pfft!" Severus sneered, "the boy's relative incompetency in Potions apart, I appreciate talent when I see one. I have seen the power he uses now; it is more than obvious that he has more of his innate power voluntarily available."

"You think that it was the fight that changed something in him?" Dumbledore questioned.

Severus considered it. "Not necessarily the fight. It could be the Dementor attack as well, or perhaps a combination of both. I think the Dementor attack is of more importance, since we both know about the changes in him post attack."

"Go on."

"Looking at the recent events, Potter's mind suddenly erupted rudimentary mental defences, enough to block a decent Legilimency first-level attack. I have seen his attempts in our sessions, it seems he is learning it faster than we thought possible."

Dumbledore winced. He had demonstrated an over-powerful attack to demonstrate dominance in his previous conversation, although he knew that it required a great deal of mental strength to actually have enough mental strength to break through the attack and voluntarily move his eyes away.

 _Perhaps I need to apologize to the boy._

"I think that something has happened to him, something that has somehow, reduced the active connection between the boy and the Dark Lord, and as a result, his own powers are returning back with a vengeance. Coincidentally, he is being taught powerful magics, and considering how the political situation is, it can be _almost understood_ why the boy and his magic are behaving this way…"

Dumbledore looked at the other man thoughtfully. "Perhaps you raise a good point, Severus." He briefly pondered over bringing Severus into the private matters involving himself and Professor Watson, but decided against it. There would be time, and there would be time….

"What do you suggest, Severus?" he asked finally.

Snape stared at the old man in disbelief. This was the first time the venerable wizard had actually asked for a suggestion. All these years, he had only seen Albus Dumbledore accept his information and then tell him what to do.

"I think," he paused, gathering his words, "that Potter shouldn't be antagonized any further regarding this situation. As for Miss Greengrass, I do not think she shares the same propensity as her father in supporting the Dark Lord. Merlin knows Potter could actually do with a Slytherin mind, given how he just _happens_ to find himself in dire situations."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow.

"Are you suggesting that the girl is going to bring a positive benefit into the situation?"

"Miss Greengrass is a… _renegade._ She doesn't share the propensity to bigotry over blood politics like the majority of my house, though she is mature enough to not raise her voice and get herself noticed. She is one of the most mature witches I have happened to teach, and if she has decided to side on Potter's side, it is plainly obvious that she has seen something to propel her to make this decision."

"You mean she is manipulating Harry?"

Severus felt an irrepressible urge to counter the statement, stating that it was pot calling the kettle black.

"Aren't we all?"

Dumbledore winced.

"From what my Slytherins have mentioned, Potter now is the official Head of the Black family, and thus the commander of the Black Alliance, at least in the interim. Unlike what could be expected from a Gryffindor, he didn't reject the Alliance, but rather made a rather conniving attempt to make sure that the Alliance stayed as it did, under his command."

"That isn't what I expected." Dumbledore confessed. "it's almost…"

"Slytherin." Snape answered. "I can sense Miss Greengrass's signature behind this. Potter entered the Slytherin House, defeated the would-be prime candidate in both power and prestige, and stayed strong throughout the event. In fact, from his display of power, I can tell that many of the neutrals are considering joining his group."

"Out of fear?"

"They are Slytherins, Headmaster. They do what is necessary, and whatever motivates them. Then again, fear is the greatest motivator of all."

Dumbledore sighed. "I am at a crossroads, Severus. The entire situation is nostalgic for me. Not long ago, I saw another student, just as powerful and charismatic, who gave up control over his magic and turned into a twisted shade of what his true potential was."

"I do not think Potter has it in him to follow the footsteps of the Dark Lord, if that is what you are suggesting, Headmaster. He is simply _incapable_ of holding on to that much hate."

Whatever Dumbledore had been expecting, that was not it. It was so unlike Severus to defend Harry of all people, but he supposed that considering the man's own foray into the dark arts, Severus was in a better position to understand Harry's predicament than he himself. For once, he went with what the other man stated.

A random memory floated up into his mind, something that he had almost forgotten, but it had come back from Severus's choice of words…

 _ **Do not allow the Dark to win, fearing the Light will go dark…**_

"Very well, Severus. I will give some thought to your opinion."

Severus nodded jerkily. "If there is nothing else, Headmaster…"

Dumbledore nodded, and Severus walked out of the office swiftly, leaving him in deep thought.

* * *

 **Meanwhile in the Slytherin Dungeons…**

"This is beyond what I had ever seen, Daph," Tracy chattered away, "I mean, did you watch him? It was like his power was rolling off him in waves. It was… suffocating."

"I know, Tracy." Daphne scoffed, frowning at the other girl. "I was there too."

"How can anyone just do that? Have you seen aura like that before? Especially one that bright? I thought I was going to die."

Daphne had tuned out the girl already, her own mind busy in the multitude of thoughts slamming into her mind. She knew that Potter- Harry, she corrected, was skilled, considering that he had defeated the other Triwizard Champions and won the tournament, but this—this was different. She quietly wondered just how powerful her… boyfriend truly was, and why in Merlin's name had he kept it all a secret all these years.

 _He could have silenced Malfoy right in the first year, stopped all those insinuations against him in second year, and once again, last year. One single demonstration would have been enough._

She wondered why Potter hid his power all these years. And if so, why did he resort to demonstrating it this year? Had she not been present in the event herself, she wouldn't have even believed that he was even capable of it. She wasn't sure which was true- that Harry had either hid his true power like a quintessential Slytherin, or that he simply had such deadly power in him, present but out of his voluntary reach. Daphne couldn't decide which was scarier. For a moment, she wondered if in the haste of being in a superior position than Malfoy, she had bitten off more than she could chew.

"Daph? Daphne?"

"yeah?" She tuned in to hear her best friend again.

"Did you hear about Malfoy?" Tracy went on, "—apparently, he has been forceful in demanding an indeterminate leave from Hogwarts, if not outright leaving the castle."

Daphne's eyebrows raised up.

"Surely you are exaggerating? I mean, I know he lost badly, but this is too much, even for the brat." She scoffed.

"Daphne, he is not being himself," Tracy retorted, "he is behaving as if _he would die if he didn't get away from Harry Potter as soon as possible."_

 _What?_

"What do you mean?"

"What I said- Draco has been all but banging Professor Snape's door to allow him _escape_ Hogwarts since he woke up in the Hospital Wing today morning. I mean, I understand that Potter was scary and all, but he is _Potter-_ he wouldn't kill him for staying at Hogwarts," Tracy defended, before following up in a more vulnerable tone, "—right?"

 _Would he?_

An image of Harry, his magic soaring in flames all over him, floated into her mind. Her cries, asking him to stop, but he had not even considered her, moving ahead in that oh-so-threatening manner. She was almost sure that Harry would just _exterminate Malfoy like a bug,_ but he had finally receded, dropping the blonde boy down on the floor, almost as if he were nothing, _nothing_ compared to him.

"Daph?"

"Yeah?"

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," Daphne returned, "just thinking."

"What?" Tracy demanded, "—for the record, where is Potter? Did you talk to him after... you know-"?

"No," Daphne returned with slight hesitation, "—he was angry and everything, and well, it was me that called him into the mess in the first place, so I just left him alone."

Tracy looked at her as if Daphne had just stolen her chocolate.

"What?"

"Aren't the two of you supposed to be in a relationship?"

Daphne raised her eyebrows. "And your point is?"

"Shouldn't you be… I don't know, with him? I mean, I know we had classes since morning and everything, and he was absent all day."

"Tracy, we had only a single class with the Gryffindors today," Daphne deadpanned, "he might just have missed Charms today for some reason. He might have been present in the other classes."

"Reassuring me or yourself?"

Daphne only glared back.

* * *

 **Somewhere near the Black Lake…**

Harry walked alongside the lake, in large, hasty steps, not wanting to meet or talk to anyone. His mind was a veritable mess of thoughts, right from Dumbledore's apparent betrayal, to the recent events and with his magic running all frenzy. He had decided that the best way to cool off was to fire off some spells off his wand, and get tired. It had always helped him cope up in the recent years- while the Room of Requirement was indeed a better option, he did not want the old man to know about it.

 _Then again, the old man probably knows almost everything happening all around the castle._

He whipped his wand out and fired out a couple of powerful elemental spells he had read up from the Potter family grimoire. There was one particular spell though, that was in his mind. A spell that he had been trying to learn, but it had always evaded him. A spell that had supposedly been in the Black family for generations.

 **FLASHBACK**

"Sirius, what is this spell?"

Sirius got off the easy chair and walked up to his godson, who was standing beside the table, with the Black Family grimoire opened up in front of him.

"Which one?"

"This…" Harry indicated with his finger. The spell, from the initial look, seemed like some kind of lightning elemental spell, which for one, seemed completely out of place. After all, elemental spells were the Potter's forte, not the Blacks, who never had _any kind_ of elemental spells in their family magic, favouring the Dark Arts over all other forms of powerful magic.

On the contrary, the Potter family held a strong affinity for anything related to battle, which was also _odd_ considering that the Potters, with the exception of his father and grandfather, never even worked as an Auror or hit-wizard. In fact, a general analysis of his family showed that the Potters did their best to stay away from any kind of Ministry-related works, preferring to either own their own business or work in collaboration with others. Even Charlus Potter, his great-grandfather, had been a Baron and an independent one at that, choosing to protect the land and his own interests than work in collaboration with the Ministry. It had only been his grandfather Fleamont, who had been the first one to work for the Ministry, as an Unspeakable Researcher working distantly in collaboration with a private research firm in Germany. James Potter however, had been a full-fledged Auror, before he lost his life at a very young age. Harry had taken it up as a form of extreme paranoia against the Ministry, as could be understood from the Potter family motto.

 _ **Quis custodiet ipsos custodes.**_

 _ **Who will guard the guards?**_

What procured such level of paranoia was difficult to understand, since there had been no bad blood between the Ministry and the House of Potter over the years. However, it was apparent that for some indisputable reason, his ancestors had done their best to stay away from the edifice that was the Ministry of Magic, at least as was apparent from the genealogy he had studied from the family grimoire. However, that was for later and Sirius was talking.

"This… is odd, godson, since Blacks aren't supposed to have elemental spells here."

Harry glanced at the spell. While he did not know Arithmancy, he was able to understand that the spell required a serious amount of power, almost overwhelming to be precise.

"I think- I think Grandfather created this." Sirius replied finally.

"Arcturus?"

"The very same. I would recognize his writing anywhere. He and your great-grandfather Charlus had fought against Grindelwald together. This one must be something he was working on with your great-grandfather at that time."

"But why on earth would he-?"

"I don't know. However, this looks like a powerful spell. Maybe you could try it."

"Hmmm," Harry mused, "I will need to take it up to the Arithmancy reference, I don't understand it quite…"

"I can help you there," Sirius chirped, his eyes sparkling with interest. "I had Arithmancy while in school, I suppose I could help you out there."

Harry grinned.

* * *

 **Back to the present…**

Harry raised his wand, and performed the necessary wand incantation, his eyes closed as he composed himself for casting the spell for the nth time. He had tried to cast the spell several times in the past, but without success. Considering how Dumbledore commented about him having a lot of power, the spell certainly didn't agree to that sentiment.

Not that he could disagree. After all, this was the most powerful spell in his repertoire, something along the lines of the legendary and devastatingly powerful _Fiendfyre._

He closed his eyes and thought hard….

 _Fulminata ad infinitum…._

His wand began to vibrate slightly, as lightning sparked around the tip, before a ball of dazzling white light shot out of the tip, propelled by a solid thunderbolt behind it. The resultant energy spanned out for a couple of yards before it flickered for a moment, and then exploded.

"DAMN!"

"I don't suppose the spell worked correctly, judging from your reaction."

Harry spun around, in a fraction of a second, his wand moved up, an angry red burning at its tip, as Harry Potter took a glance at the sudden intruder, who had his hands raised up in surrender almost instantly.

"Peace, Potter! I come in peace."

"Zabini." Harry hissed neutrally.

"Good to know that you at least know my name." The dark-skinned boy answered. His accent seemed a little off from the standard British.

"I am Italian." The boy answered, almost as if he had read it from Harry's mind.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I, doing here?" Zabini returned with a raised eyebrow. "This is the Black Lake. This area is effectively Slytherin property," He answered, before quickly following up-"-not that I mind with you being here, that is."

Harry slowly lowered his wand.

"What brings you here, Potter? I mean, it has been ages since we have spotted you wandering alone beside the Black Lake."

Harry tilted his head. "Do Slytherins habitually spy on where I spend my time?"

"Some." Blaise answered with a shrug. "Your… performance in the common room made quite a stir today. I couldn't even spot a single owl in the Owlery during lunch."

"Information for the Dark Lord?" Harry suggested absently.

"Some," Blaise returned, "—for others, it is vital information for politics, considering you are the interim leader of the Black Alliance, and your first appearance has been rather… spectacular as of late."

"I did not know that the neutral Zabini family took an active interest in Wizengamot policies." Harry returned coldly.

"You are right, but then, so does Potter." Blaise retorted back.

"Is there a point to all of this?"

"Blimey, and here I thought of having a decent conversation with a Gryffindor." Blaise returned with a laugh. Looking at the stern look on Potter's face, he continued, "apparently I am not that great at humour."

"It needs some work. Now why are you here?" Harry returned, his fingers clenched around his wand.

"Whoa, whoa- let's not blow this out of proportion." Blaise urged, his hands still in a defensive posture. "I just wanted to talk some business with you, that's all."

"Talk."

Blaise sighed. "This is an official request from Lady Serena Zabini, Contessa of Sicily. She has expressed a wish for _parlay_ with the Lord of Black, at his discretion. I swear this on my magic, and as the heir to the Zabini fortune."

Harry raised an eyebrow. An act of _parlay_ was a pact initially made between enemies, when they wanted to meet and discuss something, without having the fear of being ambushed by each other. The ancient magics invoked by the pact were quite deadly, and that made it a powerful option that came to be used between Ancient Houses that belonged to different sections of the Wizengamot. He knew that as a Lord, he couldn't afford to ignore it completely, since it could be taken as a slight against the Contessa Zabini.

"I- will need some time to ponder over it, and get a date in mind; if that is acceptable."

Blaise smiled. "That would be acceptable, Lord Black."

Harry took a deep sigh. "What is it about?"

Blaise shrugged. "I might have mentioned about last night's… show to my mother, and she has demonstrated an interest in meeting you."

"The Zabini's do not have a seat in the British Wizengamot." Harry refuted.

"I know," Blaise replied, still smiling. "This is a parlay between the House of Zabini and the House of Black."

"I… see."

"You know, Potter, the magical world could do with someone of your power and your… mentality. It would be a pity if someone like you would become a part of the existing system. See you soon, Potter. Good night." He smiled for the last time as he turned around, walking away. Harry never saw the shine of the poison-lined knives inside the boy's trench-coat as he walked away.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Can anyone wager a guess at what actually happened with Malfoy?  
**


	11. Chapter 11 : Animagus

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _The Zabini's do not have a seat in the British Wizengamot." Harry refuted._

 _"I know," Blaise replied, still smiling. "This is a parlay between the House of Zabini and the House of Black."_

 _"I… see."_

 _"You know, Potter, the magical world could do with someone of your power and your… mentality. It would be a pity if someone like you would become a part of the existing system. See you soon, Potter. Good night." He smiled for the last time as he turned around, walking away. Harry never saw the shine of the poison-lined knives inside the boy's trench-coat as he walked away._

* * *

For the remainder of the week, Harry Potter was remarkably absent. He would miraculously appear for his classes, and then vanish away immediately afterwards. Daphne had even spotted him a couple of times, but he had just smiled back (with a little hesitation), and vanished afterwards, only to reappear for the next class. He kept his performance in class at a proper standard, and not even Snape had been able to comment on his performance. The Gryffindors did not meet him at during meal times, and from what it seemed, Harry was eating out from the Hogwarts kitchen itself, which he was, thanks to the help by a very excitable and hyperactive elf, who was incredibly happy to be in service to the 'great and kind' Harry Potter.

Finally, after a week of his evasive behaviour, Daphne Greengrass had enough. Just as Harry Potter appeared on his seat during the Transfiguration class, Daphne stood up, completely ignoring the fact that Mcgonagall was about to begin teaching, and walked up to him.

"Push over, I need to sit here."

The entire class, including the Transfiguration Professor watched in silence at the single act of defiance from the Slytherin girl. Harry's eyes remained transfixed at her for a moment, before he slowly moved aside, allowing her to sit beside him. Daphne turned towards the Professor and replied. "I am sorry for interrupting, professor. Please continue."

It was a testament to how much Harry's sudden disappearances had been noticed that Mcgonagall didn't even remark anything back, only returned a head nod before beginning the lesson. The rest of the class turned back towards the Professor as the class began.

"Today we are going to start a new lesson in regards to trans-species transfiguration." She paused, making sure she had the complete attention of the class. "Animagus."

Each and every student had their eyes turned towards the Transfiguration professor. The spectacular show that Mcgonagall had given everyone on their very first class during their first year had been stuck in their minds- the pinnacle of cross-species Transfiguration, the Animagus.

"As you might know, there have only been seven registered Animagi in recent history." Mcgonagall lectured, not noticing the shadow of a smirk on Harry Potter's face when she mentioned that comment- "and is obvious, it is incredibly difficult for a person to achieve his or her animagus form, and no matter your magical power, some people aren't just capable of becoming an animagus."

The last statement was met with general sullenness amongst the students. Considering how Mcgonagall had mentioned that there had been only three registered Animagi in history, they could see their chances move from positive to a shady slim region.

"Before the discovery of the animagus potion, the process of finding your animagus form had been incredibly difficult, and had to be achieved through mastering meditative practices. The recent developments in the Animagus potion has made it comparatively easier to find your inner animal."

Mcgonagall gave the class a stern glare.

"Today I will be administering everyone the Ministry provided sample of the Animagus potion. Drinking it will send you into a trance, and you will be able to figure out your form, if you have one. I must impress upon everyone that if you do decide to work on your animagus form, you _will_ do it under my supervision, unless of course you want to attend lessons with a tail hanging out of your back."

The class sniggered at the mental idea.

"I also need to mention that if you become an Animagus, you will need to register yourself to the Conscription list of the Ministry, or else suffer a six-month imprisonment in Azkaban along with a monetary fine."

The class looked horrified at the prospect.

"Now," She waved her wand as an entire box of potion vials materialised on the table next to her, "I have here with me, an entire assortment of the Ministry-specified potion vials. You will be drinking the potion right where you are sitting. I don't want you to fall on the floor while in your trance."

A couple of sniggers were heard. The Professor waved her wand as the potion vials were levitated up, and floated towards the table, as every student caught one by hand.

"Sit comfortably, and relax your mind. Free yourself from any possible disturbing thoughts that you might have," - Harry wondered if it was possible- "and now, drink the potion."

Harry had been looking forward to the Animagus potion ever since he had met Sirius for the first time. The older man had even intimated to help him with the process (secretly) but the Triwizard had spoiled all of their plans. After that, the summer brought in an entire workload of training and the Animagus part had taken up the backseat. Besides, Sirius had informed him that fifth-years were usually given a chance to try the potion. If they did not wish to continue, the choice was given to them once again during their NEWTS, since being an Animagus (or at least having a significant improvement in the process of being one) gave extra credits in the Transfiguration NEWT exam. It was a testament to the amount of hard work required for it, that there were only seven, albeit registered Animagi in Wizarding history, though Harry had no doubt that the actual count was much, much more.

As with all other potions, it smelt like grime. Harry wondered if potioneers intentionally made potions smelling and tasting like crap. In all possibility, Snape probably did so. Scrunching his face, he gulped the entire potion in one go, and pinched his nose. A sudden blurring of his senses showed that the potion was perhaps taking effect.

"Enter the trance, and you will soon find your anima-" The rest of the sentences went unheard as Harry's senses dulled over completely, as his shoulders slumped, sending him into pseudo-unconsciousness.

* * *

Fire!

The entire place seemed to be down in flames. In fact, it seemed like fire was raining down from the sky, as Harry looked around. A large, flaming boulder launched off from the tip of- _is that a Volcano? -_ and was plummeting down towards him. Harry stumbled for his wand, but finding none, jumped out of the way, though the shockwaves from the impact were enough to fling him away by five feet.

 _What is this place? Did Sirius and Dad have to fight off for their lives too?_

Barely had the thought flitted through his mind, that an overwhelming force slammed against him from behind, throwing him forward by another ten feet. He groaned, pulling himself up from the ground, as he rubbed off the sulphur-heavy dust from his face. How on earth did this feel so… real when it was all a trance? He wasn't supposed to be hurt by all of this… _right?_

A huge roaring noise grabbed his attention, as he fearfully looked behind him. A ginormous tornado was taking form behind him, the winds of gale picking up the boulders on the ground, as the monster lashed on the surface of the volcanic plain. Not having his wand, Harry did the only thing he could do.

He apparated.

He appeared around a hundred feet away from the original spot, and found to his misfortune, the monster of the wind was racing towards him, and not for the first time, Harry wondered if something had gone wrong with the potion. Staring at the volcano bursting out hot magma into the atmosphere, he found a rather large cavern around roughly, what seemed almost a mile away. He apparated.

He reappeared again in front of the cavern, thanking mentally the fact that apparation was wandless and did not really require a wand. Wondering what might have happened to his wand, he treaded towards the cave.

The moment he put a step forward into the confines, an eerily familiar and yet repelling wave of magic washed against him, almost throwing him off. Harry held strong against the lash, and took another step forward.

 _ **Why are you here?**_

The voice sounded eerily similar to the wise voice he had heard in his head at times, although it had been rare enough for him to even discount it as his own mind playing games with him. Considering how his magic was in the verge of instability, he had figured it could be a minor side-effect.

 _Now though…_

 _ **Why are you here?**_

The voice roared through his mind, almost making him fall down on the floor, as the voice boomed against him.

"I am here looking for my Animagus form." Harry answered, pulling up whatever courage he could muster.

The entity hidden inside the cavern laughed.

 _ **Go back, boy. It is a futile exercise, which will end in disaster. You are not worthy to wield what you desire…**_

Harry frowned. What was it with people calling him unworthy? Dumbledore said he wasn't good enough, Snape's always ranting over his unworthiness, and now it seemed his own animagus form-

"I am here to meet my form, and I am not going here until I have succeeded."

 _ **Your petulance renders you unworthy, boy. Go away, before you are in no position to get back alive.**_

Harry grit his teeth as he ignored the warning, and took another step further. His aura rose brightly, caressing his body like a flame as he walked into the cave, fighting against the gale of energy flowing outwards, pushing him back as he struggled to walk against the torrent.

"I am not… going back unless I am successful…" he gnashed his teeth as he took another step forward, as a huge wave of energy lashed against him. It was only for his aura protecting him like a shield that prevented him from getting burned- a ginormous beast leapt out of the cavern, as Harry fell down on his back, as the mighty beast leapt across over him, leaping out into the wild. The only thing he could see was the shiny grey eyes pulsing with uncontrolled power as it exchanged glances at him while leaping outside. The large, four-legged behemoth was coated with thick jet, black fur, and from the single flash of what Harry could see, it was ostensibly similar to some kind of huge black dog, except that it was probably three times larger than Sirius's animagus form.

 _How am I supposed to change into that?_

The great beast gave an almighty roar, disintegrating his consciousness completely.

* * *

Darkness.

Light.

Darkness.

 _Shit._

Darkness.

"Harry?"

"Harry?"

He slowly opened his eyelids, shutting them instantly as the bright light overwhelmed his senses. He opened them slowly once again, as the misty image of Daphne's face registered in his mind.

"Daphne?"

"You all right?"

"what- what happened?" He slowly pulled himself up from the desk, feeling his muscles sore and aching.

"You took the potion, and dropped down over the desk." Daphne returned, "well, I didn't see it since I was in a trance myself, but when I woke up, you were drop dead unconscious and unmoving. We waited for some time before Professor Mcgonagall asked me to wake you up."

He looked around. Ron and Hermione were standing right behind Daphne, Hermione looking a little tensed, and Ron- just the usual confused look. His glance shifted to the blue-eyed beauty beside him.

"How long was I out?"

"Thirty minutes." Hermione answered before Daphne could.

"did—did you get into the trance?"

Hermione nodded. So did Daphne.

"And?"

Both of the girls looked confused.

"I found my form, if that's what you are asking."

"Did either of you-you know," Harry hesitated, "get attacked by your form?"

Daphne looked almost amused. Hermione looked rather puzzled.

"Harry, we were supposed to meet our form, not engage in a fight. As it is, my form was very cooperative." Hermione refuted back.

Daphne rolled her eyes.

"What is your form?" Harry questioned.

"Ahem!"

The sudden distraction from Mcgonagall let him know that he was effectively interrupting an ongoing session. He looked at the old professor sheepishly before sitting up straight.

"Mister Potter, I will assume you did not, for Merlin's sake, fall asleep after taking the potion?" The professor asked sternly.

Some of the students chortled at that.

"No, Professor. I was-" Harry tried to get a proper word to describe what he was feeling, but his mind was too disoriented from the course of the events.

"Did you enter into a trance, Potter?" Mcgonagall questioned, interrupting his answer.

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. Then, he opened it again. "Yes, Professor."

"Well," the professor returned impatiently. "What is it?"

"I- It seemed like some dog, Professor. Some giant, black dog."

"Like the Grimm?" Parvati Patil asked nonchalantly, from the other bench.

Harry quickly remembered the large, shaggy form Sirius often turned into while at Black manor. "Much larger."

"How do you know? You haven't seen a Grimm. Nobody has seen a Grimm in the last eight centuries." Theodore Nott questioned swiftly.

Harry considered it. Considering the fact that his own godfather was a Grimm animagus himself, the idea was laughable.

"I have seen a Grimm." Harry returned, "in my third year." He ignored the miniature squeaking sound of acknowledgement between lavender and Parvati in the front bench.

"How large was it?" Nott continued, his eyes narrowed.

"Around three or four feet in height." Harry refuted back.

Nott laughed at that. "That was no Grimm, Potter. Maybe some black dog with some similarity to one- A Grimm is a mythological creature, with a XXXXX classification. It is only rumoured to be seen. No one has ever documented seeing a Grimm."

Harry scrunched his face. Sirius's form was certainly a dangerous opponent to face for the average witch or wizard, and could certainly face off a werewolf in a fair fight; but certainly not at par with a basilisk or a dragon, to be given a XXXXX classification.

"How large is a Grimm rumoured to be?"

Nott smirked. "At least nine feet in height, with around twice of that in length. They are supposed to be vested with all kinds of psychic powers, enough to put any illusionist to shame. A Grimm could supposedly beat a dragon to death, though it is only a rumour."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. If he remembered correctly, The House of Black was the sole descendant of the ruling House of Grimm. Was there any possible connection there?

"Was your animal form… this Grimm, Potter?"

Harry flinched. "No, I think it was something else. I was-I was disoriented, Professor."

"Must be. There are no records of a magical animagus, and it is considered impossible for Magical Animagi to exist."

"Why so, Professor?" Hermione asked.

"Because magical creatures have a much more complicated body and mind than us. It is impossible for us to match the spectrum of their thoughts and their own brand of magics."

"Ten points to Slytherin, Mister Nott." Mcgonagall rewarded. Said boy smiled back and sat down on his seat. There was a reason after all, why Minerva Mcgonagall was given a different brand of respect by all the fur Houses- she was fair and unbiased- well, almost, except when it came to Quidditch that is.

"I hope everyone here has been able to enter the trance and found their animal. Let me repeat once more, the process of Animagus transformation is time-taking and very, very taxing. It is impossible for anyone to complete the process by your OWLS, so consider it a long-term enrichment project if you will. For those who are interested, I am partial to granting an internship if the applicant is at least working towards achieving his form after your NEWTS."

Some of the students, especially Hermione, cheered at the news. Harry glanced at Daphne who had a poker face on her countenance. There was something the girl knew but was not akin to share out in public.

* * *

After another half an hour, the class dispersed as the students walked out of the classroom. Harry did his best to get out quickly but Daphne sat at the bench, with a stubborn expression on her face.

"Don't you want to go for the next class, Daphne?" Harry tried, hoping the girl would listen. The room was already cleared, and Hermione had walked away, forcing Ron to walk with her, despite his claims.

"I do, Potter, but I am not moving until you tell me what's wrong."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Nothing's wrong."

"Of course." The girl drawled. "Why are you being so evasive ever since that event? It's like you are avoiding me."

"I am not avoiding you." Harry returned, if a bit lamely, "I was just engrossed in… stuff."

Daphne folded her arms across her chest. "What _stuff,_ Potter?"

"Back to Potter are we?" Harry countered.

"Only if you behave this petulantly. Honestly Potter, what is your problem? I thought we were good."

"We are," Harry confessed, "I'm just- trying to figure out some things by my own."

"And 'figuring things'," - Daphne indicated using air-quotes, "—involves evading your girlfriend and everyone else for a week?"

Harry did not answer.

"What's wrong? Maybe I can help." Daphne answered finally, with a smile.

"Is this also a part of your whole Slytherin plan of 'sticking to the Leader of the Dark Alliance'?" Harry countered.

"No. This is the 'being a proper girlfriend' part, Potter. In case it wasn't clear," she drew close and kissed him fully onto the lips. Harry's eyes became as large as saucers when the reality of the situation registered in his mind, before the feel of her soft lips engulfed his mind completely. His arms snaked around her as he kissed her back.

"That felt nice," Daphne replied finally, stepping back from him, "now I understand why Tracy would go on and on about it." She stared at her boyfriend who had a goofy grin on his face.

"Look sharp, Potter." She commanded, before smirking and kissing him again. The two exchanged a quick kiss before they separated. "We might have come together because of political interests, Potter, but that doesn't mean I am going to miss out all the romance. Especially considering how much my best friend spends time boasting about it."

Harry did not know what to say.

"I don't know what's troubling you, and it's obvious that you don't trust me enough to share your problems with me. Would it help if I took an Unbreakable Vow?" She offered.

A part of him totally supported her decision. Another part of him wanted to believe her words. The conflict in him was distinct. Daphne however, wasn't one for waiting.

"I, Daphne Victoria Greengrass, swear on my life that I will never betray Harry Potter or his secrets. As I have sworn, so mote it be."

A bluish sheen radiated out of her body.

"That wasn't necessary." Harry argued.

"It seemed… neater." That was all Daphne had to say. "Understand this, Harry James Potter, while I might have entered into this amorous relationship with you because of our mutual political interests, I am not… averse to having a happy future with you, should we suit each other for the long term." She tried her best to control the slight shade of pink in her cheeks as she stated it proudly.

"Uh-huh, sure." That was all that Harry had to say.

"Now, for the last time, will you tell me what's troubling you? Because I swear I will feed you with Veritaserum if I need to."

Harry chortled.

"Do I look like I am in a mood to joke?" Daphne threatened, her hands back at her hips in an interrogative fashion.

That shut him up. His hands went up to her arms, and held them firmly. "It's just that my magic has been behaving strangely. That day, I almost killed Malfoy, and-" His eyes widened, "-did Malfoy return?"

Daphne almost snorted at his reaction. "No, it seems you got everyone rid of the ponce for good. I heard he is going to Durmstrang though it's only a rumour. I could send a letter to him if you are missing him that much."

Harry groaned. Who knew Daphne Greengrass had a fun side to her too?

* * *

"So let me get this straight. Your magic is acting… frenzy, and hence you are staying away from everyone because you consider yourself a tickling magical bomb?"

Harry was sure that the reaction was just as sarcastic as he had imagined it to be.

"In a way, yes."

"Right," Daphne drawled, "and has your… week-long reclusion granted you an answer to this… calamity?"

"No." Harry answered, "though I am trying to get my magic under control, but it isn't working out that well."

"Does the fact that you seem to have a magical animagus form have anything to do with it?"

Harry's eyes widened, as he cursed himself. The reaction was more than enough for a blatant giveaway.

"I think so. My animagus form attacked me in the trance."

Daphne snorted. "You aren't even going to deny it?"

"Would it help?"

"No. But I could pretend that it was a big revelation if that makes you feel good." Daphne countered back mockingly.

"No thanks." Harry returned, briefly enjoying the quick banter.

"So, a Grimm. Interesting."

"I'm not yet sure if it's a Grim. It could just be a big, black dog, and it could be my mind playing tricks with me." Harry defended.

"Has anyone told you that you are a bad liar, Harry?"

"Uh, no."

"Well, you are a bad liar." Daphne pronounced condescendingly. "Though it's a good thing."

Harry raised his eyebrows defiantly.

"I suppose you want to keep it secret for everyone?"

Harry's shoulders slumped. "My form doesn't seem to like me enough, as it is. It considers me unworthy."

"Well," Daphne drawled, "I suppose you need to man up and use that Gryffindor courage you have." She snorted at that.

Harry sighed. "I suppose." Suddenly, he looked at her sharply and asked, "So, since when, have you been an animagus?"

That caught her off-guard. "What? What makes you think I even have one?" She challenged.

Harry had to admit it. She was good. Very good. If not for the fact that he had cheated using a little passive Legilimency, he wouldn't even have had guessed it. His skill wasn't enough to graze through thoughts yet, but a quick raising of her mental alarms gave away his answer.

Harry shrugged. "You just confirmed it."

Daphne scowled. "Since last year."

"And what is it?"

"A fox." She grunted out, scowling at the imminent giveaway of a potential secret.

"That's- that's amazing. Who trained you?"

"My uncle. He is a professor at a magical school in Uganda that emphasizes in Animagus training. He taught me how to master my form during my third year. I spent the last year trying to perfect my shifting."

"Can I see it?"

Daphne frowned. "Not here, obviously. Somewhere private. Now come on, we are getting late for class."

Harry grinned.

* * *

Ron and Hermione walked together for their Care of Magical Creatures class. Ever since the previous week, the golden trio had reduced to the two of them, since Harry was hardly to be seen anywhere. The boy would appear for classes and then vanish for _reasons-_ not that he was exactly forthcoming with answers when they questioned him. It was either training, or any similar evasive answer, not to mention his recent- Hermione thought with slight bitterness- girlfriend. While she knew that Daphne was a good person, for a Slytherin at least, it did make her feel slightly vulnerable. Previously, Harry would have come to her for all his problems, and she did feel better helping him get his way out of situations, but now… It felt that she was slowly losing her friend, something that made her feel vulnerable.

"What are you thinking, Hermione?" Ron asked slowly.

"Nothing. Harry didn't come with us. I suppose he will appear in the Creatures classroom like always."

"Reminds me of third year, when you appeared out of nowhere," Ron joked, though his laughter felt bittersweet to her.

Hermione considered her friend. Ron always had very few priorities and a rather simplistic view of the world, unfazed by the problems faced by muggleborns. Besides, he had five elder brothers to look up to, and had grown up in the magical world as a pureblood. Ron's world moved at a strange default- he was incredibly possessive of things he believed he had the right to. Hermione would be an idiot if she would disagree with the fact that Ron prized his friendship with Harry as the most important thing in his universe. It was almost surprising that Ron had created a big mess when Harry had announced that he was interested in Greengrass and that she had become his girlfriend.

"Yes, I suppose Harry is busy…" She answered lamely.

"With Training, yes." Ron answered bitterly. "Of course, training excludes the time he can spend with his _girlfriend._ It is only us he doesn't-I mean, cannot afford to make time for."

Hermione did not answer.

"And how come Greengrass became his girlfriend? The most beautiful witch of the year, untouchable, Slytherin, dangerous—and yet she just snaked her way into his arms, just like that."

Hermione glanced at her friend.

"I suppose it takes Harry Potter to be able to snag the prettiest girl of the class."

Hermione bit her lip. She knew that she wasn't one of the most beautiful girl in class- Hell, even Parvati looked prettier. The only reason she had looked the way she did at the Yule Ball was because she had tamed her bushy hair using the magical shampoo-

 _Perhaps I should actually look into that. Ordinary ones just don't work. Maybe then Harry would-_

The sudden thought brought a tiny blush on her cheeks. She had known her best friend from first year, and yet, there were moments when the thought of being more than friends had appealed to her. Saving her from the troll had just been the beginning- while Ron had indeed helped, it was Ron himself that had made her go to the bathroom crying in the first case, while on the other hand, it had been Harry who had jumped onto the troll in a bizarre attempt to protect her. A simple childhood crush, that had _almost_ developed into something more when she had travelled back with him in time. She had been stuck in the middle during the fight between her best friends the previous year, a fact that had haunted her for many nights, knowing that she had joined Ron and left Harry alone for a month, not believing his story, despite knowing very well that he wasn't one to wish for fame. Had she sided with Harry, maybe things would have been different. While Victor was a decent friend and a comfortable partner at the Yule Ball, a part of her had wanted Harry to approach her for the date. It was only when she got tired of waiting too long, that she had said yes to Victor. Besides, Harry had been pining for Cho Chang, and then, Cho appeared with Diggory and Harry showed up with Parvati Patil. Hermione had suspicions that the other girl was saving herself for being a prospective date for him at the Ball, after all- he was Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived and Triwizard Champion. And now this year, she had lost her chance again as Harry began showing interest in Greengrass. She had thought it to be a small fling, with her friendship dominating over his personal relationship- however, it seemed that things were different. As a friend, she wanted him to be happy, and if he wanted Greengrass as a girl-friend, she wouldn't oppose him, but it did leave her with the feeling that she had just missed on something big.

"You know Harry doesn't want his fame." Hermione refuted slowly.

"Well, he can complain as long as he likes. Doesn't make it false that he is famous, and gets the whole spotlight, while I don't get even a little."

"Ron," Hermione warned, "you are returning to what started the fight last year."

Ron's ears reddened. "Well, it doesn't make a difference, does it? He isn't being _friends_ anyway."

"You don't know that for-" Hermione's words stopped midway as she saw Theodore Nott standing not far from them. "Just a second." She strode up to the unassuming Slytherin boy who was talking to another Slytherin student whom she didn't recognize.

"Excuse me, Mister Nott," Hermione tried a little formally, not knowing how to approach the boy. Nott was one of the more reclusive students in the school, however, that didn't hide the raw intelligence the boy displayed in his classes. The raven-haired grey-eyed boy glanced at her in surprise, and returned, "Yes…. _Miss_ Granger?"

"Hermione please," Hermione replied with slight hesitation, "I was wondering if I could talk to you about something."

Nott narrowed his eyes curiously. While he didn't really want to have anything to do with _Granger,_ the recent developments had placed Granger higher on the hierarchy, especially since she was Potter's best friend. He turned towards the other boy, who seemed to understand and walked away, before Nott turned towards her. "Yes?"

"I was wanting to know about the Grimm. You seemed to know an awful lot about the creature."

Nott raised his eyebrows. Trust Granger of all people to initiate contact with _Slytherins openly_ for the sake of gaining knowledge. It was a pity that _her ambition was to gain knowledge_ instead of _gaining knowledge to pursue her ambition._

"My family has had _collectors_ in our ancestry. The Nott family has made it a hobby to explore myths, legends, and treasure hunts for centuries. The first Nundu to be killed was done during a Nott expedition in the 1300's."

"Oh."

"What do you want to know?" Nott questioned, cutting directly to the point.

"The Grimm. You seem to know an awful lot about it considering how you proclaimed it as a _mythological_ creature."

Nott chortled. "All rumours have a shred of truth in them, Granger. You should ask your friend about it. His family are said to be the descendants of the Grimm themselves."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed at the suggestion.

Nott chortled. "Surely he has mentioned it? The Black Family is a descendant of the Ruling House of Grimm, who were said to be Master Illusionists, not unlike the Grimm itself. Even the totem of the Black family is a Grimm." He observed the surprised look on her face, "Good day, Miss Granger."

The boy walked off, leaving Hermione deep in thought.

"What were you talking about, Hermione?" Ron asked, after the other boy had departed.

"Just asking some questions about the Grimm."

Ron guffawed. "You could ask Sirius himself, his form is-"

"Shhh!" Hermione warned.

Ron took the clue and stopped midway.

"Besides, if what Nott said in class is correct, then it's not a Grimm, since the _dog_ is pretty small compared to the actual size."

Ron sneered. "What does he know? Trelawney said that Harry would see the Grimm, and we all saw it."

"We thought we saw it; we didn't know better."

"But-"

"Come on, Ron. We are getting late for class."

Ron didn't argue any further and followed her to the COMC class, not wanting to face her ire. Creatures class had been rather boring of late. Hagrid brought more interesting creatures than Grubbly-Plank, he silently mused.

* * *

 **Later in the evening…**

"That's the Forbidden forest, Harry Potter, and there is no way I'm going in there." Daphne pronounced snappishly, as Harry tried to convince her to go into it with him.

"Come on, it's perfectly safe," He tried, ignoring the tiny memories of a wraith, an acromantula colony and a horde of dementors coming after his life.

"No way," Daphne snatched her hand back, "you are the Gryffindor. You go in. I am perfectly content to stay by the Lake."

"But I want to see your form." Harry tried, putting up an act.

"Not good enough, Potter. I am not going there. There are Thestrals in there."

"And?"

Daphne flushed. "And nothing. I don't like Thestrals, okay?" She tried unconvincingly.

Harry remembered the beginning of the session, when he had first seen the Thestrals. It was rather… surprising, but as Luna Lovegood had said, they were rather peaceful creatures.

"You can see Thestrals?"

"No," Daphne returned, "and that makes them all the more dangerous. They are fucking invisible to me, and can, well, I just don't like them."

Harry chuckled. "How do you know that?"

"You are not going to let this go, are you?" Daphne challenged.

"You wish."

Daphne groaned. "Fine!" She hissed. "Nott told me about Thestrals being present at Hogwarts, and I went to see one while in my first year." She paused for a moment and then frowned. "Obviously, I couldn't see them but something was eating away the loaf of meat in my hand." Her face flushed, "—and then something came and bit me on my butt from behind. I was so scared that I went off running like a banshee to the Dungeons. And you can stop LAUGHING now!"

Harry was too occupied to listen. He was already on the grass, laughing his arse off.

"Stop laughing or I will hex you to next week!" Daphne warned.

"Okay, okay!" Harry raised his hands, trying hard to keep himself from chortling.

"Well if it helps, I can see Thestrals. So I can alert you if any of them tries to bite your butt-"

Snikt!

"Hey!" Harry dodged it the hex at the last moment.

"Next time I won't miss!" Daphne smirked, as she pulled Harry up from the ground.

"Nott seems very knowledgeable in creatures." Harry observed.

"He is. He scores the highest in the subject. His elder cousin is in Romania, at the Dragon Reserve. Nott was so jealous when we all came to know about how you were a Parselmouth."

"Huh, why so?"

Daphne narrowed his eyes. "You seriously need to study, Potter. Parselmouths are able to communicate with dragons, most of the time anyway."

"They are?"

"Obviously. Dragons are reptilian, after all. The ability grants you a direct job in Dragon Reserves, no matter your NEWTS. Nott is very good with creatures, but cannot communicate with them, unlike some."

"Oh." Perhaps he should look about his ability.

"The Black family has had Parselmouths in the past, you know? Maybe you could check up on it."

Harry frowned. It seemed that others knew more about his family than he himself did. It was very… humbling and disappointing at the same time.

"I suppose." He glanced at her, "So, are you coming into the forest? It's getting late."

"Why? Are you afraid of being alone with the big bad Slytherin girl?" Daphne teased.

Harry rolled his eyes.


	12. Chapter 12: Decisions

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _"The Black family has had Parselmouths in the past, you know? Maybe you could check up on it."_

 _Harry frowned. It seemed that others knew more about his family than he himself did. It was very… humbling and disappointing at the same time._

 _"I suppose." He glanced at her, "So, are you coming into the forest? It's getting late."_

 _"Why? Are you afraid of being alone with the big bad Slytherin girl?" Daphne teased._

 _Harry rolled his eyes._

* * *

" _What do you think I should do, Padfoot?"_

" _It's your decision, Harry. I will wholeheartedly support whatever you decide."_

" _What would you do?"_

 _Sirius frowned. "I admit I wouldn't have trusted the Zabini's. They are too mercurial when it comes to supporting anyone in Britain. Then again, they cannot afford to be anything else."_

" _What do you mean?"_

 _Sirius paused for a moment. "The Zabini family is a coalition, with its branches deep into mercenary activities. They prize information and power over everything-a fact that is reinforced by the fact that even Dark Lords tend to avoid dealing with them. An arrangement with them could help you greatly, and if not, make sure that you come out neutral through all of this. You don't want them as friends, but you do not certainly want them as enemies."_

" _You sound like they are worse than Voldemort."_

 _Sirius smiled mirthlessly. "The Dark Lord is a singular entity. With his fall, the entire Death eater movement came to an end in less than a week. The Zabini family is like an ancient tree, it's roots deeply entrenched inside powerful organizations and families. To cut a tree is one thing, to burn down the entire forest is another. It's almost ironic that they remain neutral in most cases."_

" _You sound like they are criminals, but yet out of the reach of the law."_

 _Sirius laughed. "The law is a funny thing, Harry. With time you will understand that there is an incestuous relationship between business and politics. The Zabini's are too deep into the biggest businesses of the magical world to be disturbed by legal organizations."_

 _Harry frowned. "I am not sure if I should go for it. I am not ready for it."_

 _Sirius laughed. "No one ever is, Harry. No one ever is."_

* * *

 **In an abandoned classroom, Hogwarts.**

"Do you think Potter will arrive?"

Theodore Nott considered the person sitting in front of him. Derek Mulciber was a rather blunt individual, even if he was a seventh year. The House of Mulciber had been a rather vocal supporter of the Dark Lord, and thus, for the heir of the family to even consider attending _Harry Potter's_ meeting, it said something.

"Hold your breath, Derek. Potter is a Gryffindor. He must be on his way."

"Why are you here in the first hand, Nott? We all know that you will follow your father's footsteps like everyone else." Augustin Flint asked.

"My father understands that I have my own mind, and thus, can make my own thoughts. I am a Pureblood, Flint, and this is a meeting held by the leader of the Dark Alliance, who is also the Lord of the most influential Dark family in the Wizengamot." Nott refuted back with a stern voice. Outside the classroom their ages and their classes mattered, but within such meetings, only power and influence did the job. And Theodore Nott had both.

"Surely you are not considering joining Potter's side?" Flint argued.

Theodore gave him a cold, intimidating look—the one he had reserved for people who meant _less than him._ "While it is potentially intriguing, listening to you sharing advice on what your _peers_ should do, it is not that interesting since I am capable of forming my own opinion. My politics do not mix with the Dark Lord, nor do they clash with them. The Dark Lord supported the Pureblood propaganda, and yet, many pureblood families went extinct because of his regime."

"They were traitors." Augustin snarled.

"Really? On what basis?" Nott challenged. "Blood? Tradition? Faith? Money?"

"Support." The pale boy defended. "They were against the dark Lord."

"And the dark lord is the epitome of Purebloods?"

"Undeniably."

"Why?" Theodore asked simply.

"He- He is the heir of Slytherin."

"And you know that, how?"

"He is a Parselmouth." Augustin returned coldly.

"So is Potter." Theodore returned simply. "Besides, weren't you one of the vocal ones who claimed that Potter was the one petrifying students?"

"but- but- that's because Potter's a Black. The Black's had had Parselmouths in the past. He isn't a Slytherin. He is a-"

"Black." Nott returned in a no-nonsense tone. "And unless your father forgot to teach you wizarding genealogy, Slytherin wasn't a ruling House. The House of Grimm however, was one of them. House Black was one of the founders of the Wizengamot."

"I smell betrayal in your words, Theodore." Flint remarked.

"Only because I can think for myself. I can understand that you are here, in hope to acquire potential information about Potter and his motives, but some of us here have arrived to actively pay attention to Potter's propaganda. So, kindly take my advice and _shut up."_

"Interesting choice of words, Nott."

Theodore turned towards the door as Rosaline Selwyn entered the room. The seventh year girl was one of the best duellists Hogwarts had ever seen, and had been an active participant in the international duelling circuits. It was almost a pity that Hogwarts refused to acknowledge such talent in school, and preferred theoretical and normal practice over active duelling.

"Selwyn. I certainly did not… It's good to see you.".

"Charmed." The blonde girl walked into the room, and took a seat. "Is the speaker arriving any time soon?"

"I suppose he is fashionably late." Astoria Greengrass muttered with a scowl,"—or perhaps he is busy feeling up my sister."

"I for one, certainly did not expect Greengrass to latch herself to Potter. I mean, he is a bloody half-blood of all things."

Theodore rolled his eyes. Flint's mind was too warped to even consider, that after all the cake and watermelon- blood, money and fame didn't matter. Not when you had _that_ kind of power at your fingertips. After seeing the show in the common rom, he had been forced to revaluate his notions about Potter. Removing the tainted glasses that Malfoy had given him, sprouting expletives about Potter for the last four years, Theodore had to admit that he knew very less about the Potter scion. Potter had defeated a mountain-troll in the first year, and if the rumours were right, Salazar Slytherin's basilisk in the second year. His acquaintance and ability with the Patronus was no secret, and the previous year, Potter had outflown the bloody Horntail, fought against the grindilows and defeated the other champions at the final task. There was only so much that could be achieved by luck, and Potter had long outscored that amount. Theodore wanted to know how it was, that Potter did the things he did, and if he was indeed as powerful as he demonstrated at the common room, why on earth had he pretended to be so… average all these years.

He felt the magics in the room flutter gently. Perhaps Potter would finally _consider_ dispelling off the _disillusionment_ charm and reveal himself, he thought, smirking inwardly.

Barely had the thought flitted through his mind, that Daphne Greengrass walked into the room, and soon enough, the space just behind her simmered for a moment as Harry Potter appeared. Theodore smirked.

"I'm sorry, everyone. I was held back by Professor Flitwick." Daphne exclaimed, as she darted into the room.

"I was waiting for her to arrive." Potter answered absently. Not a lie, Theodore considered. Just a half-truth.

 _Very Slytherin, Potter._

Harry Potter walked up to the makeshift discussion table that the others had transfigured in the area from the benches, and took his place. "I am sure everyone here is wondering-"

"Cut the crap, Potter." Flint sneered. "Just get to the point and prove my expectations right. Then we can all return to our dorm rooms."

Silence.

Every single eye turned to Potter, judging his reaction. Said person sat silently at his chair, his genial expression slowly changing into something… else.

"Very well," he replied with a touch of coldness in his voice. Something stirred in the air around him. "The new House of Black stands for itself, for the sanctity of magic. It holds no respect," - his eyes glanced towards Flint- "or patience, for people who would rather allow bigotry to engulf this world. I do not support Albus Dumbledore" - every single person held his breath at that statement- "nor do I support the self-styled Lord Voldemort. I do not care if you are a Pureblood, half-blood, muggleborn, squib, creature or anything else, but-" he paused, "I care if you have magical blood or not. I stand for the House of Black and for all of those who would stand _alongside_ me. Too much blood has been shed in the wars, and you know what? When it is shed, the blood that flows down is magical and it is red."

"Well said, Lord Black." The heiress of Selwyn commented slowly.

Daphne snaked her palm into Harry's own supportively.

"What happens to those who do not agree to the new perspective of the Blacks?" Alfred Gibbon, who was sitting on one end, questioned him.

Harry Potter faced the boy, and replied, "If you do not agree to my views, you are free to walk away right now."

"What? Just like that?" Flint asked, surprised by his answer.

"Yes," came the clear reply.

"And you are not going to establish the Interim Leader's power over us?" Flint asked, not yet sure if what he was hearing was correct.

"No." Harry Potter stood up, as Theodore Nott observed with deep interest. Potter strode up to Flint, who succumbed to the irrepressible urge to stand up as well- "I consider you as a fellow magical, capable of your own thought and decisions. You are free to walk away and join whichever alliance you wish. However, if in the future, you even try to hinder my path, I don't care how powerful you or your _Dark Lord Voldemort_ might be, we will come to blows."

For the first time since a long time, Theodore Nott _smiled._

* * *

 **Sometime later…**

"That was awesome, Harry." Daphne cheered, kissing his cheek as she entwined her palm with his, as they walked out of the makeshift conference room. Everyone else had left, and now the only thing that was left was for them to let him know, through an official letter, mentioning whether they would leave the Alliance, or renew their support.

"If you say so. I was kind of, scared inwardly, what with it being my first meeting and everything. Sirius, like the traitor he is, left me alone to decide what I should say."

"Well, you did hold yourself quite well." Daphne agreed.

"I don't know." Harry returned. "I had kind of, prepared for the meeting, but the moment Flint raised his question, all preparation ran out of the window. I just improvised what I could." He confessed.

Daphne kissed his cheek. "You did great."

"Lord Black."

The couple spun back instantly, as the person standing just behind them came into focus. Standing behind them, in a rather casual posture, was Theodore Nott.

"Mister Nott." Harry remarked simply.

"Theodore, please." The raven-haired boy strode up to them as he faced Harry. "It was an interesting meeting, Lord Black. I look forward to future meetings between us."

"Thank you. Please call me Harry." Harry said genially. "Does that indicate your support, Mister—Theodore?"

Theodore smiled. "I am afraid that is up to my father, though I promise to give you a definite answer to it soon enough."

"Fair enough." Harry agreed.

"It has been quite some time since a speech interested me, Harry. Take it from someone who has been to Wizengamot sessions since five years of age." Nott glanced at Daphne momentarily. "I can understand why Daphne took a liking for you. She is a good judge of character."

Harry nodded imperceptively.

"I will see you later, Harry Potter." With that statement, Theodore nodded gracefully, before turning and walking away.

* * *

"Interesting guy," Harry observed, as the other boy walked away, in his own unassuming gait.

"Yes," Daphne agreed. "Nott is… different. It's a good thing he seems to be intrigued with our perspective. I suppose he and his father will have words soon."

"Isn't his father a Death eater?" Harry asked.

"So?"

"Nothing, it's just that I was wondering if his father would even consider, allowing his son to invest his efforts in our alliance…"

Daphne smiled. "Just as a very wise Gryffindor once told me, there are many turns in the Slytherin way. Nott's father may be a Death eater, but he allows his son to hold his own judgement. Besides, it has been an old habit for old families to place bets on both sides in advent of a war."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Why do you think _my father_ did not raise any concerns to my dating you?" Daphne questioned. "Think sharp, Potter. Despite our… differences, he understands that there are no sureties in a war. The best chance for the Greengrass heritage to survive is if it has players on both sides of the war."

Realization dawned on him. "That was why you asked me out for a date."

Daphne smiled hesitantly. "Yes. I knew that it was a good way of being on your side. The Black lordship however, changed everything."

"So if you chose to come for a date with me, and it complies with your father's interests, then…." He shook off her arm as he looked at her, face to face.

Daphne smirked. "You are finally picking up, my dear."

"Then that means… that all of that rebelling against your family in public…"

"This is Slytherin, Harry Potter. Wheels within wheels. Just as you said, _many turns in the Slytherin way_. However, for all my calculations, there was one thing I didn't see coming."

"And what's that?"

"You." She stepped ahead and kissed him full on the lips. "I fell in love with you. I do not know, but all this time with you… it… it just happened."

"How do I know if this isn't just another ploy you are using?" Harry countered, feeling a little tensed inwardly.

"You can't." Daphne replied defiantly. "However, if I asked you to take a leap of faith, and believe that I do love you, would you do it?"

"I'm not sure." Harry answered honestly.

"You do not see the world as I do, Harry. When two titans fight, the grasses on the ground are the ones who suffer. You, Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, you are Gods, titans commanding magical power that ordinary people can only dream of. Winning a war, takes a lot; but losing it, takes everything. It has taken a decade of effort for the magical families to regrow and now another war threatens the peace of the magical world. I understand that my behaviour seems manipulative to you, but could you blame me? I was only doing what was best for my family."

"What about Astoria? Is she going to side with the Dark Lord?" Harry asked finally.

Daphne frowned. "As I said, the Black Lordship changed everything. In the last war, there were only two sides- Dumbledore, or the Dark Lord. Now, there is a third," she looked at him in the eye — "You."

"I am no Dumbledore." Harry refuted.

"No, you are Harry Potter. A middle path. An option for people who believe in the magical blood, who do not want to kill their own kin, but at the same time, hold true for their own traditions. Theodore has recognized your potential, and that is why he defended you in the meeting, as I know you did while being disillusioned. He isn't the only one, and neither the last one to do so."

Harry considered her words. There was no ambiguity in them, only honest truth, or at least he couldn't detect any. Then again, she was a Slytherin, and she would always have an angle, no matter benevolent or not. He supposed that if he were to look forward to having a future with her, he would have to repress his paranoia.

"I think I… understand. I suppose no one does anything because it is the correct thing to do." Harry answered finally, a little subdued and angry over the revelation.

"Tell me, Mister Harry Potter. Do _you?_ " Daphne countered.

"Of course, I do-I went after Quirrel to prevent him in first year, and then I went to the Chamber the next year."

"Indeed, you did. But ask yourself this- did you go to fight Quirrel because you wanted to protect the Stone, or because you knew that if he succeeded, then the Dark Lord would return and possibly kill you?"

Harry had no answer.

"You went after the basilisk in second year. Was it because you wanted to save the school? Or was there a part of you that feared that you would have to leave Hogwarts and return to your muggle relatives if the school closed?"

Harry looked at her in shock.

"We all act out of rational self-interest. It is called self-preservation, Potter. There is nothing wrong with it. Appreciate it well."

Harry could not think what to say.

"Are we done, or do you have any more questions and reservations against me? I assure you I have all the time in the world."

"Just one. The initial manipulation makes sense. The supporting me through my Lordship and the Black Alliance thing does too. But doesn't this… _love_ put a wrench in your plans?"

"Believe me, Harry Potter. I ask myself this question every night." Daphne put her arms around his neck, and Harry let her as he closed onto her. "—but I have no regrets."

Their lips closed in, into a kiss.

* * *

Professor Watson drew a silent breath, as she turned back and walked away, her eyes closed as the image of the younger Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass kissing pervaded in her mind. All those years she had tried to convince herself that Harry wasn't the one for her. So many reasons, and she had grown out all of them. Sometimes it was that Harry considered her like a sister, that Harry wasn't interested in her, that Ginny deserved him more than her, that Harry loved Daphne, that Harry was on the other side of the political faction, that…

Countless reasons, and yet none of them had stood the wrath of time. By a strange twist of fate, she was now, back in the past, watching her old self make the same mistakes that she had done earlier, and she was still doing nothing. Would the future have turned out the way it did if she had made the right choice when it initially mattered, instead of clinging to her flaw of following authority figures blindly?

 _Should I talk to…. me… about it?_

She chortled mirthlessly. Here she was, under a permanent glamour, living a life completely opposite to what she would dream about as a child. She had never seen herself as an educator- she never had the patience to deal with people who couldn't keep up with her thought processes. It was almost a miracle that Ron and Harry hadn't been driven to nuts by the way she all but forced them to follow the schedules she prepared for them. Then again, it was Harry who didn't mind. Ron just went on with the flow.

Time and time again she wondered what it was that had initially made her fall for the youngest Weasley boy. Was it because she knew that Harry Potter was off-limits? Or was it because other than Harry and Ron, she was a small shrivelled adult, the Gryffindor bookworm with no friends? Or did she think that in Harry's absence, Ron was the only person she could try to live with, since he was the only other boy she knew well?

Maybe it was one of them. Or maybe, it was a mixture of all. It honestly didn't matter. She hadn't chosen Harry at the Triwizard, and had lost his true friendship. She had given up on him in fifth year, and Daphne had ensnared him away. At least the girl loved him truly, and didn't ever lose faith in him, unlike her own self, who had chosen Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix instead of siding with her best friend. After Voldemort's death, she had seen the Ministry conspiring against him, but she had put faith on Albus Dumbledore and his sense of justice. And look where it all got her…

 _ **Please Hermione… please… you know the truth. You know they will kill him… please…**_

She did not know whether to laugh or cry. And now, she was back to the past, watching her past self on the verge of making the same mistakes… and herself…. An educator, hiding behind glamour, and trying to prevent Albus Dumbledore from making the mistakes that caused the _death_ of Harry Potter-

 _ **Don't you see… don't you see Hermione? It's Harry. It's my Harry…**_

Her lips quivered for a moment.

 _-And the advent of Ragnarok._

It was almost funny. All throughout his life, Harry had been called a Dark Lord. They called him a Dark Lord at school. They called him a Dark Lord when he began to delve in dark magics. They called him a Dark Lord when he defeated Lord Voldemort. It was almost ironic, that Magical Britain called him a Dark Lord while he was the only one who could save them all. After his death, Magical Britain got the Dark Lord they wanted so bad, the one that caused their absolute destruction.

* * *

"You want a leave? For what?"

Harry kept his face composed. "Family matters." The boy had come to the Headmaster's office to ask for his permission. After all, the meeting with the Contessa Zabini wouldn't be possible within the walls of Hogwarts. Sirius had downright negated coming with him, leaving Daphne as the only choice. He supposed that having a sexy, Slytherin girlfriend wouldn't be a bad idea when it came to meeting the notorious Zabini Countess.

Dumbledore peered at him. "I am sure I could bring Sirius in, for a discussion. It shouldn't be a problem. There is no reason to take a-"

"I am afraid you misunderstand, Headmaster." Harry answered with a calm tone, "When I meant family matters, I meant family business with other families. Business which, I am sure, you understand, cannot be held at Hogwarts."

"Why are you doing this, Harry? You should be training and spend your time with friends and in studies. Our differences will only help Voldemort."

"Sir, I don't know if you understand this, but my name is Harry Potter. _Not_ the _boy-who-lived._ Voldemort wasn't the cause of my birth, nor is he the sole reason behind my existence. You cannot simply control my life, professor. It's my life and I have to live it."

"As your guardian, Harry-" Dumbledore began.

"You are not my guardian, professor. Your guardianship ended the moment I took over my Lordships."

"Yes," Dumbledore answered sadly, "-a fact that I think was a mistake back then. I agreed to your emancipation to prevent the Ministry from unwanted aggression against your person; not to allow you create a mess of yourself and your family. First that meeting with the Dark Alliance, and now this…"

"With all due respect Professor, you were never supposed to be my guardian in the first place. My parents wanted the Longbottoms, followed by Sirius Black, to be my guardian, in that order. You went out of your way to seal the wills and decided to put yourself as my guardian, messing up my childhood. Let me see if I can create a bigger mess than that." He ignored the sudden flash of irritation on the old man's face- "However, we digress. This is an official letter, complete with the House seal, asking for leave. Do I have the permission?"

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment. "Of course, Lord Black. You may have the two-day leave for family business."

"Thank you, Professor. Also, might I be able to take my friend and vassal Miss Daphne Greengrass with me for-?"

"I am afraid I-" Dumbledore began.

"-with an official letter of leave from her, as well, submitted to her Head of House."

"Very well." Dumbledore sighed.

"Thank you, Professor." Harry paused for a moment, "—and I am not mixing my House business with our agreed training, Professor. Our differences apart, I will keep my word and fight against Voldemort."

Dumbledore stared silently but did not answer back.

Harry nodded slightly before leaving the office, leaving the Headmaster behind. It was only the moment he was gone, that Dumbledore finally spoke. "You are playing with forces beyond your control, Harry. I will teach you… be ready, Harry Potter."

* * *

Harry Potter crossed the gates of Hogwarts, with Daphne walking behind him. The latter had made a big fuss over his robes the previous day, leading him to order some proper robes as suited someone worth his station. According to Daphne, the first impression mattered more than anything, and that he should seem comfortable in his new position and authority. The Zabini heir had provided him with a two-way portkey that would take him to the Zabini estate and return him back to Hogwarts.

"Why isn't Zabini coming with us? I had assumed that he would be present during the meeting." Harry asked.

"Because he is the receiving host. Tradition dictates that he should be present at the receiving point. I know it is a moot point, but well… _pureblood protocol."_ Daphne explained.

"Pfft!"

"Stop doing that. You are a Lord, now act like one." Daphne chastised.

"I never thought that you were the mothering kind."

"Do you want me to hex you?"

Harry grinned.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Now get ready. The portkey should activate any moment."

Harry held out the silver bracelet that Blaise had given him, his face scrunched up as he remembered his past experience with portkeys. He held her tightly around the waist, as Daphne smirked at him, before he counted.

"Three. Two. One."

 _SWOOOP!_


	13. Chapter 13: The Muggleborn Myth

**Previously on Ragnarok...**

 _Harry held out the silver bracelet that Blaise had given him, his face scrunched up as he remembered his past experience with portkeys. He held her tightly around the waist, as Daphne smirked at him, before he counted._

 _"Three. Two. One."_

 _SWOOOP!_

* * *

Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass appeared in the midst of what seemed to be a ruin, with human population on every side they could see, except for the grand Greek temple with huge gothic pillars to their left. The island of Sicily was densely populated, and at the first sight, resembled downtown London, at least to the magical eye. Standing in front of them, with a rather large man (whom Harry suspected was a half-giant like Hagrid) was Blaise Zabini, wearing well-trimmed wizarding robes.

"Welcome to Sicily." Blaise welcomed, as he walked up to the couple who looked windswept as if they had barely survived a powerful gale. Harry nodded slightly as he shook hands while Daphne offered her hand for Blaise to kiss her knuckles. Pureblood protocol, Harry mused.

"So, the magical people live alongside muggles here?" Harry asked generally.

Blaise smirked. "Not really. We Sicilians have our ways." He pointed towards the gothic temple, and nodded. "Please follow me."

The trio walked toward the temple, and the moment Harry stepped into the temple courtyard, the entire view vanished and he was standing in front of a huge estate with forests all around him. He could even see wizarding settlements at a distance. It was almost like Hogwarts except that the edifice had a more… modern look, and unlike the ancient castle, this was more of a multi-storeyed building though there were touches of wizarding styles here and there.

"Welcome," Blaise stated grandly, "to the Gargoyle Conclave."

Harry raised his eyebrows at the rather… weird and if he were honest to himself, rather intimidating name. The building did not give off any such… intimidating aura to suit the name, though, he would be an idiot if he took things at face value.

 _Outer appearance is no guarantee of character or competence._

The same perhaps applied to magical residences, especially one this large. It was almost half of Hogwarts in size, while the forest seemed larger than the Forbidden forest back home. He wondered if most old families were built along similar lines and style.

"We have a surprise visitor waiting for you inside, Lord Black."

Harry tensed, as his fingers almost twitched in reflex. "A… visitor? I was told that this is a parlay between the Houses of Black and Zabini."

"It is. I swear that we will hold up all the rules and traditions of parlay. You have no reason to fear for your or your partner's safety because of us or anyone present here."

Harry nodded imperceptively.

"Might we enter?" Blaise offered.

* * *

The Gargoyle Conclave was perhaps the weirdest edifice Harry had ever entered. What seemed to be a multi-storeyed building from far now seemed entirely different on a closer look. With every single step, the mansion seemed to morph until it was looking ostensibly similar to a fortress with large, rock gargoyles sitting like guardians on the top of the numerous pillars and rooftops of the grand fortress. The rocky statues gave an eerie feel, as he slowly walked passed them, and he got a weird feeling that unlike the stone gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office, these were much more… real.

"They are something, aren't they?" Blaise asked, at Harry's look.

"Yes. Much more… real."

"Of course they are." Blaise gave a predatory grin, as he walked up front, until they were standing at the main door. "Welcome, Lord Black. Miss Greengrass."

The trio entered through the entrance Hall, as two house elves popped in, and took off their coats before popping away with ease. The Hall had doors on either sides, and Blaise stopped before one of them, and looked at Harry. "This is your guest room, Lord Black. Miss Greengrass's is the next one. I hope you enjoy your stay here."

Harry nodded.

"I will send an elf to intimate you about the meeting." Blaise returned, before walking away, leaving the couple to themselves.

* * *

An hour later, the two of them found themselves seated in one of spacious drawing rooms inside the Mansion. Blaise sat on one end, while Harry and Daphne sat on the other.

"To be honest, I am quite surprised that your father allowed you to accompany Potter here, if you do not mind my saying so." Blaise commented. The three had been done with the official protocol and formality and now they were talking like the three fifth-years that they were.

Daphne allowed a little smile to flick on her lips. "My father… understands the situation and has allowed me… _carte blanche,_ for lack of a better phrase, in this matter."

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Does that mean that your _official rebellion phase_ against your family is over?"

Daphne smirked. She should have known. This was Zabini, and if there was anyone who would figure it out, it would be him.

"How long have you known?"

"Not long." Blaise confessed. "In fact, our mutual guest informed me."

Daphne widened her eyes, as it hit her. Behind her, the door opened and a person walked in.

"Lord Black," Blaise urged, standing up, "meet Theodore Nott, our mutual guest and an important member of the… discussion."

Harry spun around. "Nott?"

"Potter. It's nice to see you. Same to you, Greengrass."

"It was a surprise." Daphne answered.

Theo shrugged and took a seat beside Blaise. "I am sorry; it turns out that I am not as good in creating portkeys as I thought I was."

Blaise smirked. "Theodore was most impressed by your little conference, Potter, and eagerly jumped to be a part of our parlay."

Harry considered it. While Theodore Nott was a surprise, he was also someone who had taken a positive interest in the Alliance. Besides, he still had no idea about the main agenda of the meeting, except that it would be between Houses. Keeping his inner struggles to himself, he glanced at Daphne, who nodded imperceptibly.

"I am surprised that your father… allowed you to come to this meeting, Nott." Daphne began, "considering the _prime factors_ out there."

Theodore smiled, as his eyes glanced at Potter. "My father and I had a most interesting conversation yesterday, and might I say, you and your new agenda dominated it."

"Me?" Harry asked, almost in surprise. The idea that his agenda was the topic over dinner at a death eater's home wasn't that appealing.

"Yes, and considering the present situation, and his knowledge over my preferences, we agreed on a mutual agreement."

"And that is?" Harry urged.

"A distribution of the Nott fortune. As is popular knowledge, my father was an _Imperiused_ follower of the Dark Lord, and now that he is back, my father might get _Imperiused_ all over again. In order to make sure that the entire Nott fortune doesn't get depleted to fund the Dark Lord's war-machine, he has divided it in two halves, and I have free reign over my half."

"Isn't that a good way of saying that he threw you out?" Blaise joked.

"Not really." Nott answered with a slight frown. "He emancipated me, and gave me full rights of an adult. His Will states that _only after his death,_ the Nott Lordship shall pass to me. We also agreed on a _détente_ agreement, meaning that we shall not aim nor try to kill or severely maim each other."

"That is…." Blaise began.

"—actually a good idea." Daphne finished for him. "That way the fortune and the Lordship stayed safe, and both of you can still contact each other, despite being on opposite ends of the fence."

"A ball in every court, as my dear departed husband liked to say."

The sudden feminine voice caught everyone off-guard, as Harry and Daphne turned around. Standing behind them, was an extremely regal-looking lady, looking every bit sensual and mesmerizing as Harry had heard from Sirius.

 _So this is the Contessa Zabini. Who in the seven hells would ever guess that she is a Master assassin?_

The woman in front of them was a perfect example of the fact that looks could kill. Infinitely gorgeous, and sizzling, her gait demonstrated an edgy perfection, deadly and captivating at the same time.

"Lord Black, Miss Greengrass," Blaise urged, "-allow me to introduce you to the Contessa of Sicily, Lady Serena Zabini."

The extremely sensual woman smiled at them. Not for the first time, Harry wondered if she had Veela ancestry.

"You are correct, my Lord Black. My mother descended from the Veela Coven of the North."

Harry felt his face flush. Could it be possible that she was a-?

"Natural Legilimens, since birth." The Contessa replied, faster than he thought possible, "-It has been both a boon and a curse."

"Right." He exclaimed finally, as Daphne poked in his ribs slowly, reminding him of the protocol. Hastily, he strode forward and kissed the Lady's knuckles.

"Charmed." She replied. "I have heard many things about you, Lord Black, both about your recent political and your school escapades."

Harry glanced at Blaise momentarily who just shrugged.

"Please make yourselves comfortable." The woman exclaimed, before she walked over and took her seat next to Blaise. "We thank you for taking up on our request for parlay. I assure you," - her eyes glinted- "it is as much _uncommon_ for us as it is for you."

"Lady Zabini-" Harry began.

"Serena please."

"Right, what did you want to talk about?" Harry asked, cursing himself inwardly for his over-blunt approach.

"Straight to the point, I see." Serena returned. "It is a little complicated, I am afraid. When my son Blaise informed me about the recent _changes_ in the political hierarchy of the British Wizengamot, I couldn't help but take an interest. Especially considering Master Nott also seems intrigued by your agenda, and that says something."

"Theodore and I have been friends since childhood." Blaise explained. Theodore just nodded.

"And?" Harry asked.

"We wish to know about the true nature of your agendas, and how far you are ready to go to fulfil it. Also, if things turn out the way we expect them to, there might be a chance for some business between our families, both politically and personally."

"I thought the House of Zabini had officially abandoned the Wizengamot." Harry returned.

"Present but no voting." Daphne corrected him instantly. She turned her glance to Serena. "Right?"

"Correct." Serena answered primly. "Though it brings little to no difference to the situation. However, should we wish to re-enter the British politics, we could do so, without much… interruption."

Theodore actually chortled at that statement.

"The House of Potter has never been a part of the Wizengamot, despite being a Most Ancient House. Maybe you could look into bringing the House of Potter into the Gathering once again?"

"I am still looking for reasons behind the original abandonment, to be honest." Harry confessed. "I do not want to break the long-going tradition of my House without proper investigation."

"Maybe we could help." Serena answered, "We pride ourselves on our ability to gather information. Over the centuries, the Zabini family has gathered up a lot of information. Information that you might find useful for your own."

Harry frowned.

"But I digress. Back to your agendas, then. I received information that you intend to support neither Dumbledore nor the Dark Lord; that you wish to protect the magical blood, and not the supremacists and bigots. Is that correct?"

Harry nodded.

"How?"

 _Damn good question._

Serena smiled. "Tell me, Harry Potter, do you even understand what Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort actually stand for?"

Harry took a deep breath. "It has been four years that I have known the magical world, and in these four years, I have been mesmerized and disillusioned multiple times by the Wizarding world. When I was introduced to this world, I believed that Gryffindors were good and Slytherins were evil." He paused, "—of course, as you see for yourself, I have grown up."

Theodore laughed.

"I will admit that things were simple in the beginning. Malfoy was the ponce, and it was easy to associate everything related to him as equally disgusting. Voldemort came from Slytherin, or at least that was the general idea. Malfoy, the Slytherin bullied muggleborns and the others around him always supported him. Our Head of House was helpful. The Slytherin head of House? Hateful. Dumbledore was the ever-friendly, loving grandfather figure, with all his quirks. It was easy to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin, and things were much simple."

Every single eye stared at him.

"Go on." Blaise commented.

"The next years showed me that not everything was black and white. I learnt that having a genetic ability was enough to be called _evil,_ no matter what you had done in your life or not. I learnt that the Daily Prophet existed to sell itself, and that the Ministry believed in _seen doing something_ than actually doing it."

Theo chortled again.

"On the one hand, there is Lord Voldemort. Son of Thomas Riddle, a rich muggle and a witch whose name I do not know-"

"Morag Gaunt." Serena answered. "His mother. Squib since birth. Daughter of Marvolo Gaunt, the last Head of the despicable Gaunt family."

Harry nodded slowly. The woman wasn't kidding when she professed to having a lot of information.

Serena smirked. "Please continue."

"Yes. Lord Voldemort, a hypocrite from what I think of him. He was effectively muggleborn, and yet Purebloods quiver at his feet, and kiss the helm of his robes. I think he doesn't care about any pureblood propaganda or anything, since he effectively has half-bloods fighting for him as well as werewolves, vampires and the like. He just craves one thing and that is power, and I think that he would let the world burn if that gives him power over everyone else."

No one spoke for some time.

"Crude," Serena spoke finally, "but impressive nonetheless."

Harry shrugged.

"And Albus Dumbledore?"

Harry frowned. "Two years ago, I would have agreed that the sun shines out of his arse." Daphne snorted at that.

Harry continued. "Dumbledore is… complicated. My differences with him are more… personal. While I think he is a good person at heart", -Daphne snorted again- "he becomes almost blind when seeing the big picture. In his own way, he has his own mental image of what the world around should be and he, more subtly than Voldemort, tries to mould the world in his image."

"Unclear. I must say, it is almost disappointing, Mister Potter. You practically hold no information about the two ruling factions that you wish to stand against."

"Oh please," Daphne intervened, "Potter here only had his enlightenment some two weeks ago. Before that, he was actively in Dumbledore's win, though I will give him that he showed signs of disillusionment even then."

"Indeed?" Serena remarked. "Well then Mister Potter, maybe we could help you form a clearer image of the two titans you so childishly went against."

"And where is the catch?" Harry asked, not sure what it was all leading to.

"As I mentioned, a prospect of business between our families. A prospect that was missing so far since the Potter family was in Dumbledore's wing while the Black one in the Dark Lord's."

"I am listening." Harry returned.

Serena took out her wand gracefully and waved it in the direction of the table not far away. Two folders levitated up and flew towards them, dropping on the table. The folders opened up on their own, allowing everyone to look at the huge bundle of parchment and newspaper articles inside them.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, born in 1881, to Kendra and Percival Dumbledore. Brother- Aberforth Dumbledore, who at present runs the Hog's Head at Hogsmeade, and sister Ariana Dumbledore, supposedly squib, though theories exist about her status as a Obscurial, though unproven." Serena read aloud.

"What's an Obscurial?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"People who hate their own magic, and get twisted into some kind of monstrous expression of that hate themselves. A powerful force of nature, also known as an Obscurus. A person that can shift into an Obscurus is called an Obscurial." Theodore replied, in a tone reminiscent of Hermione.

"Shall I continue?"

"Of course." Daphne answered.

Serena nodded, as she continued, "Percival Dumbledore, known muggle-hater, sentenced to Azkaban for the death of two muggles and severe injury of five more."

 _Dumbledore's father? A muggle hater?_

"Albus Dumbledore, batch of 1899, Head-boy, prefect, Gryffindor House, highest NEWTS score in three hundred years. British Youth representative to the ICW. Member of the International Alchemical Conference in Cairo."

She took up the next leaf.

"1900. Kendra Dumbledore died under mysterious circumstances. Albus Dumbledore, Head of the family. First spotted with Gellert Grindelwald in Godric's Hollow."

"Dumbledore knew Grindelwald?" Harry muttered in surprise.

Serena smirked. "1900. Open propaganda for the Freedom of Witches and Wizards from the Muggle Monarchy. Leaders. Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. Initial party member count- Thirteen."

Harry stayed silent.

"1904. Death of Ariana Dumbledore. Gellert Grindelwald missing. Albus Dumbledore takes up Assistant-Professorship at Hogwarts."

"1908. Albus Dumbledore. Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts under Headmaster Armando Dippet and later, 1937, Assistant-Headmaster."

"1925. Albus Dumbledore. Official member of the Transfiguration Masters Guild. Credited with the discovery of three principles of elemental transfiguration alongside Anthony Clemsworth."

"1929. Albus Dumbledore. Apprentice to Nicholas Flamel. Joint discovery of the seven uses of Dragon's blood."

"1940. Gellert Grindelwald strikes Magical Europe."

"1942. Gellert Grindelwald wins over Magical France, Bulgaria, Austria, and parts of Scotland. ICW forces sent to fight the eminent threat. Failed."

"1944. Charlus Potter and Arcturus Black lead the 44th regiment against Grindelwald from Britain. Two of Grindelwald's chief lieutenants arrested."

"1945. Albus Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel join the War under the 45th regiment. Grindelwald fights Dumbledore at Nurmengard. Albus Dumbledore defeats Gellert Grindelwald, captures and imprisons him in Nurmengard."

"Hold on, you mean He stayed away for years when he could have stopped the war and saved all those people?" Harry exploded.

Serena shrugged. "I do not make decisions. I am only providing you with facts. Think for yourself." She took the next leaf.

"1946. Albus Dumbledore. Crowned Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Official British representative to the ICW."

"1949. Albus Dumbledore selected as the Supreme Mugwump of the ICW."

"1950. Albus Dumbledore introduces the ban on Dark magics beyond Level Alpha-Grey. Arcturus Black challenges his bill, breaks out of the Unified session to form the official Dark Alliance. Bill passed."

"What's that?" Harry asked. Serena stopped reading, and if he wasn't imagining, there was a subtle frown on her face.

 _I should stop interrupting her. If not for the parlay, I suppose she would have killed me now._

Harry almost blanched. He was sure he had just imagined the ghost of a smirk on Serena Zabini's face.

"Alpha-Grey is the standard that differentiates spells that are questionable from those that are illegal under Ministry classification. For the record, the bone-breaker you used on Malfoy was very near Alpha-Grey, just not quite up to it, or else you would have been carted to Azkaban." Theo answered.

 _There is so much I don't know._

The sensual woman continued reading. "1956. Abraxas Malfoy introduces the anti-werewolf legislation. Albus Dumbledore votes for silence. Light faction abstains from voting. Legislation passed."

Harry widened his eyebrows. "Why-" his eyes catch Serena, who almost impishly smirks- "I mean, he could have voted against the bill."

"You seem to catch up pretty quickly, Harry Potter. I can see Daphne was right about you." Blaise remarked. Theo just smirked at him.

"1959. Bill for magical creatures Act. Dumbledore votes for silence. Light faction abstains. Bill Passed. Increased restriction on Magical creatures."

Serena continued without a word. "1962. Nobby Leech fights for the position of the Minister of magic. Albus Dumbledore fights against him, voting Tiberius Odgen. Nobby Leech wins, becomes the first muggleborn Minister of Magic."

Harry did not comment.

"1968. Nobby Leech resigns the Minister seat. Tiberius Odgen voted as Interim Minister. Albus Dumbledore become Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"1968. Nobby Leech missing under mysterious circumstances. Albus Dumbledore votes for the first Muggleborn-registration commission, formed to retrace the roots of magic in muggleborn students."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"To figure out if the muggleborn are descendants of some magical family that squibbed out. There is no other explanation." Daphne answered.

"Then why the bigotry against them?" Harry questioned.

Daphne refused to answer.

"1968. The muggleborn-registration commission reassigned to function under the discretionary powers of the Chief Warlock."

"Now it gets interesting." Theo nodded with a smirk.

"1969. Lord Voldemort surfaces. Forms a new party."

"Voldemort formed a party? Like a political party?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"1970. Albus Dumbledore tries for political armistice against the new party. Calls for non-violence against Lord Voldemort's forces."

"1972. First spotting of the Dark Mark. Albus Dumbledore blames it as international terrorist activity. Calls for sustained non-violence. Auror battalions restricted to using non-lethal curses."

"1974. Dark Lord Voldemort strikes Magical Britain. Albus Dumbledore sustains his demand for peace."

"1975. Battle of Hogsmeade. 370 people dead. Albus Dumbledore forms the illusive Order of the Phoenix."

"1979. James Potter and Lily Evans sign for the Order of the Phoenix."

"1980. Ministry of Magic almost defeated. Albus Dumbledore in defence against Voldemort. Order of the Phoenix fighting on the defensive front."

"1981. Halloween. Apparent Death of Dark Lord Voldemort. Rise of the myth of the Boy-who-lived."

Serena Zabini closed the folder. "What do you think of all of this, Harry Potter?"

Harry closed his eyes. "he had the power, but he did not use it. First against Grindelwald, and then against Voldemort. He could have stopped the restriction on werewolves and creatures, but he opted for silence. Had he acted in time, a lot of people and lives could be saved."

"And?" Serena questioned, staring at him straight.

"That's mostly everything, unless… well, there is something bugging me."

Serena's lips quivered.

"—why did he put the Commission under his own discretion? It seemed too… _strange_ considering how he never voiced anything before." Harry questioned.

Blaise chortled. "And here I thought that you were a Gryffindor."

"Excuse me?" Harry queried.

"It's an inside joke." Theodore explained. "Apparently, according to Blaise here that is, true Slytherins have a part of their mind that _doesn't allow good to exist without condition."_

"The Muggleborn-commission is the main reason that caused all the spite against the muggleborn. It is also the reason why Albus Dumbledore runs the Wizengamot all by himself." Blaise continued, on seeing the confused look on Harry's face, "You will understand."

Serena Zabini lifted the other folder's contents and took out the leaves. "The muggleborn-commission, functioning from 1968 to present day, identified over thirteen muggleborn candidates descending from ancient houses through squib lines. And now, let me share some interesting facts."

She took the next leaf. "The discretionary powers of the Chief Warlock allow him to modify the functioning of any department that might come under his sole control. The only clause to this is that the functioning must stay along the same line as it was made for, irrespective of any additions or reductions."

Theo was almost grinning from ear to ear. Harry had a nasty thought that it was an expression of anger, not happiness.

"1968. The findings of the Commission were declared ' _Need to know',_ essentially removing all kind of rights to the information under the discretionary powers of the Wizengamot."

"1969. The right to ascension for muggleborns into ancient houses was edited to include a passage through a recommendation from the Chief Warlock's office. Tiberius Odgen fights against it. Millicent Bagnold, previously Senior Undersecretary to Odgen, elected as Minister."

Serena picked up another leaf. "The Headmaster of Hogwarts is the default proxy for any and all seats occupied by the muggleborn students, unless said student cleared it from the Chief Warlock's office."

And suddenly, Harry _understood_.

"If what you said is genuine, then only Dumbledore knows the true ancestry of the muggleborns, and uses them to propel his own decisions at the Wizengamot."

"That is exactly what caused the scorn of the Purebloods against the muggleborns, who believed Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Light. Of course, it is also correct to say that the Pureblood fraternity never quite tried their level best, thanks to the inherent bigotry and the attractive words of the Dark Lord." Theodore explained.

"But then, why is he allowing Fudge to rule over him at this moment?"

Blaise chortled. "This is politics, Potter. Fudge wouldn't last a week should Albus Dumbledore want him out. Imagine this. Lucius Malfoy had led the Dark Alliance for over a decade, and yet he couldn't even land a scratch on Dumbledore's political figure. And yet, that paper-pushing moron, who needed Dumbledore's approval to sit and stand, someone who has been on Malfoy's payroll for over a decade, suddenly managed to unsettle Dumbledore's political career and throw him out?"

"You mean-"

"I do." Blaise answered meaningfully.

Harry glanced at Daphne for a moment, before something hit him. A question that had been hitting him for some time. "I have a question."

Serena put down the leaf she was holding. "Of course, and it is a valid question too."

Harry cleared his throat. "Could you, I mean, are the names of those muggleborns in that list too? I mean, I know the information was classified and all but-"

"It took a lot of trouble, but it is one of our most valuable pieces of information too. However, we couldn't get our hands on the entire list, but only a part of it." Serena whispered.

"Alex Abernathy, 1969. House Ravenclaw."

"Victoria Warren. House Danvers."

"Samantha Wells. House Porpington."

Serena smirked. "Thomas Marvolo Riddle. House Gaunt. House Slytherin."

"Severus Snape. House Prince."

Serena paused. "Hermione Granger. House Dagworth-Granger. And then there is one more, and I believe you will find it extremely interesting. Lily Evans. House Slytherin."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: And there's the cliffhanger which isn't so much of a cliffhanger. :D  
**


	14. Chapter 14: Welcome to the Game

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _"It took a lot of trouble, but it is one of our most valuable pieces of information too. However, we couldn't get our hands on the entire list, but only a part of it." Serena whispered._

 _"Alex Abernathy. House Ravenclaw."_

 _"Victoria Warren. House Danvers."_

 _"Samantha Wells. House Porpington."_

 _Serena smirked. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. House Gaunt. House Slytherin."_

 _"Severus Snape. House Prince."_

 _Serena paused. "Hermione Granger. House Dagworth-Granger. And then there is one more, and I believe you will find it extremely interesting"_

" _Lily Evans. House Slytherin."_

* * *

There are moments when you feel the earth slipping away from beneath your feet. Moments when you feel that all your life that you have lived so far, had been just some framed sequences that someone had presented to you, and you had made them the centre of your universe. Moments when you realize that your entire life had been a lie.

"My mother… Slytherin?"

"Does it surprise you?" Theodore asked, a genuine interest sparking in his eyes. "Personally, it doesn't surprise me at all."

"Why?" Harry asked, not sure what to think anymore. The revelations had boggled his mind completely.

Theodore smirked. "Simple. You could enter into the Chamber of Secrets."

"That's not true." Harry refuted, "Ginny Weasley-" he paused, unsure if he should have mentioned it, but then went on anyway. From the looks of it, the Zabini's were able to unearth more information than he could ever hope to bury. "Ginny Weasley had entered the Chamber of Secrets."

"Interesting." Serena mused, "—and this… Ginny Weasley did it on her own accord?"

Harry frowned.

"The official announcement was that _the heir of Slytherin had captured Ginny Weasley and dragged her down into the Chamber."_ Blaise remarked.

Harry took a deep breath. "The _heir of Slytherin_ possessed Ginny Weasley, and made her control the basilisk, and try to murder innocent victims in the castle. But I fail to understand your point."

"It's simple." Daphne took over. "We have a copy of Slytherin's memoirs in the Slytherin library. Not his entire life, but about what he thought his students should know about himself and the school in general."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"According to the memoirs, the Chamber of Secrets would grant entry only to the Slytherin blood, and to anyone else marked by his magic."

"The Dark Lord's wraith possessed Ginny Weasley then, that must have been how she was able to enter the Chamber." Theo suggested.

Harry raised his Occlumency shields to maximum strength, and tried hard not to think about the Chamber. The fact that Serena did not comment anything about the _diary_ simply proved that the Zabini's _did not know_ everything.

"Slytherin's basilisk. How big was it?" Theo asked him.

"Huh? I think… some sixty or seventy feet. It's head was larger than me." Harry muttered, suddenly caught off-guard with the question.

"Is there a query? Harry Potter?" Serena asked, her bright blue eyes staring into him. Harry felt the tendrils of passive Legilimency touch his mental defences.

"No." Harry answered quickly. Too quickly, in his opinion.

Daphne seemed to notice his sudden discomfort. "Everything okay?"

Harry nodded. Wanting to change the topic, he questioned, "Let me consider that my mother, Lily Evans was indeed an heir of Slytherin, making me, an heir of Slytherin, much like Lord Voldemort himself. What then?"

"You can take up the seat in the Wizengamot." Theo remarked.

"What about the Chief Warlock's recommendation?"

Blaise sniggered. "Come on Potter. You are a Lord already. You won't need the recommendation."

"Right, and why _exactly_ are you telling me all this?"

"Because we are good at heart?" Blaise tried, though Harry could see that he was mocking.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Theo snorted.

"You have a lot of information. Information that if released into the public, could cause chaos." Harry spoke.

"And that," Serena spoke, "—is the very reason we cannot do that. Besides, there's isn't any profit in revealing sensitive information like that."

"I thought you were good at heart." Harry drawled.

Theo snorted again. "Good one, Potter."

Serena _almost_ rolled her eyes.

Blaise cleared his throat. "My mother and I have a… belief, for lack of a better word. _Politicians and diapers must be changed regularly, and for due reason."_

Daphne snorted.

"So you want to _clean-house_ the Wizengamot." Harry returned.

"Not _exactly."_ Serena stood up. "For over fifty years, Albus Dumbledore has dominated the Wizengamot, trying to…as you put it, _reshape the world in his image._ We think that it is time for the tables to be turned."

"And I suppose that you want yourselves in his place?" Harry questioned.

Serena laughed. "Of course not. Do you think that someone as delicate as me could handle the affairs of dirty old men?"

Harry almost rolled his eyes.

"For a long time, the Wizengamot has been dominated one way, and we had no idea _how_ to introduce a little anarchy into the situation, like the muggles love to say- _spice things up a bit._ You have fame, and political power, albeit unhoned. Consider this an experiment of sorts…"

"Your agenda seems different, and I quite agree with yours. However, you lack the political finesse that someone on your position should wield. You may be _Slytherin,_ but you aren't _Slytherin_ enough. I might not have taken the dark Lord's path, but you don't have a path yet which I can choose or reject." Theo commented.

Daphne pressed Harry's palm supportively with her own.

"I believe Nott has summarized the situation quite effectively." Blaise agreed.

"What are you _asking me_ to do?" Harry urged.

"I am asking what you are _prepared_ to do." Serena answered, looking straight at him.

Harry considered it. "Provided what you said is true-"

"I swear on the sanctity of my magic that the information is true to the best of my knowledge." Serena swore, as a bluish sheen radiated out from her.

"Mother, you didn't have to do that." Blaise looked angry.

"It was a cleaner solution, especially considering that we are dealing with a Gryffindor."

Harry glanced at Blaise for a moment. "Albus Dumbledore didn't help during the first war, and only hindered the defence against Voldemort. He is training me, but it's not-"

"And you think, that with some months of training, you can challenge Lord Voldemort, Master of the Dark Arts?" Theo asked sternly.

"No. But I do know that he considers me a pawn in his fight against Voldemort, and that he himself wouldn't call Voldemort out to battle."

"My father said that the Dark Lord is gathering forces." Theo remarked.

"And Dumbledore isn't some slouch either. Even at the height of his power, Lord Voldemort never sought an open challenge with Dumbledore." Daphne replied quickly.

"On one side, there is a monarch who rules through manipulation, and on the other, who does the same through fear. Both of them are magical powerhouses. You on the other hand, have power but unhoned. Skilled but inexperienced. Politically strong, but lack the finesse. How do you plan to disrupt the existing power bases?" Serena asked him calmly.

Harry sat down on the comfortable chair. A couple of weeks ago, things were much more simple. He was training to kill Voldemort, or at least fight him off to save his own family. Dumbledore was a manipulative, control-freak, but with good interests at heart. Voldemort was the impersonation of all things evil. His mother was a muggleborn and his father was a Chaser for Gryffindor. The biggest bully in school was Severus Snape.

Now?

Harry laughed mirthlessly.

"Honestly, I have no idea. Initially when Daphne told me about the Dark Alliance, and about the different shades of grey that comprise our society, I thought that I could separate some of the forces and form a coalition myself, and try to pull the society in a different direction. A society were muggleborns wouldn't be treated any different from purebloods. Same for the magical creatures. It would be difficult but possible. Now though…"

He took a deep breath. "The Minister of Magic is bent on besmirching my reputation. Dumbledore had shown some interest in training me, although I don't suppose I can inadvertently expect anything from him. Voldemort is baying for my blood, and my reputation in school is in shatters. I might be the Lord of Black but without the support from the other Houses, I will only be just one House, albeit one with seven votes. Seven amidst the other one hundred and thirty-three votes."

Blaise clapped his hands. "You sure know how to summarize it well."

Harry grinned, although the emotion of happiness had been exchanged with frustration. First his magic, then his friends, and now this. And he was expecting a calm year. Talk about irony.

Harry looked up at the Countess. "Tell me, why did you choose to have this parlay with House Black? I am nowhere ready for facing either of them. And you have made it perfectly clear that I lack the finesse. If your prime enemy is Albus Dumbledore, I think the dark lord would be a better option to bet on, than betting it on me."

Serena smiled. "It has to be you, Harry Potter. For reasons more than one. The House of Zabini isn't just a crime syndicate, like you might know of us. We have a rich ancestry, and a mission." She looked at him curiously. "Tell me, Harry Potter, what do you know about the Knights of Walpurgis?"

"I have read references." Daphne mused. "About the Dark Lord's initial gang being called so."

Serena smiled. "Misinformation."

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

"The Knights of Walpurgis are an ancient breathen of families, and some solitary witches and wizards that have existed in the shadows for over a thousand years. In fact, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin are on the alumni list of the organization."

Daphne's eyes widened.

Serena turned towards Harry. "The Knights of Walpurgis bonded over a single motto. A motto that stood for the paranoia that inhabited in the hearts and minds of every single witch and wizard who was ever a part of the organization."

She paused. _"Quis custodiet ipsos custodes."_

Harry's eyes widened, and he subconsciously stood up.

" _Who will guard the guards?"_ Daphne translated instantly.

"Finally, you understand, I see."

"The Potters were part of the Knights?" Harry asked.

"The Potters have been one of the most celebrated families in the breathen, just like us. The Potters and the Zabini's have far more common history than you would believe, Harry Potter." Serena explained.

"What about Voldemort?"

"Tom Riddle was inducted into the breathen during the late 1950's. He shared an equivalent amount of distrust for Albus Dumbledore, and had the power to actually do something. In fact, Nathaniel Potter, Charlus Potter's father, was the one to induct him into our hallowed walls. It was our initial experiment against the man. Needless to say, the experiment turned badly on us."

"My ancestor… took Riddle in?" Harry wasn't sure what to think any further.

"For centuries, the breathen has been the ultimate reservoir for forbidden magic. We are the anti-thesis of the Lord's Gathering, the Wizengamot, the ICW, take your pick. The amount of dark arts and forbidden magic that has been shoved inside the Ministry Archives is unparalleled, but it is _nothing_ compared with the reservoir of magic the Knights hold _within their walls."_

"But my grandfather, my father-"

"Fleamont Potter rebelled against his family tradition, rebelled against the Knights' rules and as you well know, your father mimicked him quite well. If you do not agree, take a peek into your Family Treasure Vault. Decide for yourself."

"You make it sound like the Potters were a predominantly Dark family." Theodore spoke, after a long time.

Blaise laughed. "Dark? The Potters are descended from the Peverells, renowned among the Necromancers of old. In fact, the Peverells were the founders of the Knights of Walpurgis."

Daphne scowled and turned towards Harry. "You don't do things by half, do you?"

Blaise chortled.

"When _my son_ informed me that the last of the Potters was returning to his roots, we decided to take the chance and invite you here. I hope you have got your answer about the reason for the _parlay?"_

 _A meeting between enemies._

"Exactly." Serena replied boldly. "Should you reconsider taking the oaths of the Knights for your family once again, we will be allies, and you will gain the support of one of oldest organizations in existence. Master Nott might not find it in him to support your vision, but he does have considerable motives to support someone backed by the Knights. _Slytherins._ I hope you understand."

Harry stayed deathly silent as he considered it all. Sirius's words rang loudly in his mind.

 _ **There is a reason that even Dark Lords keep out of their way.**_ _ **An arrangement with them could help you greatly, and if not, make sure that you come out neutral through all of this. You don't want them as friends, but you certainly do not want them as enemies…**_

He gathered his words and looked at her. "And say, hypothetically, I deny. What happens then?"

Serena smiled. "Then, we will part as enemies, or at least, complete strangers, until our next meet."

* * *

 **Meanwhile in Little Hangleton.**

"Extraordinary," muttered the Dark Lord, "-extraordinary."

Tiberius Nott sat composed, having just finished stating the recent happenings in his family in regards to his son, the Dark Alliance, and of course, Harry Potter.

"A boy of fifteen, and capable of extending his aura outwards? Harry Potter is proving himself more and more impressive. I sincerely wish he would consider joining my ranks."

"That might be a difficult, my Lord. More than previously." Tiberius stated slowly.

"And why would you say that, Tiberius? The boy isn't Dumbledore's pawn, as we thought previously. Such magical potential. I wouldn't want such potential wasted uselessly in a battle. Certainly not a _Potter."_

Tiberius narrowed his eyes, as he tried to decipher the inner meaning of the ambiguous statement. "The Zabini's have taken an interest in him. You know very well that we are not ready to take on the Syndicate by any means."

The Dark Lord widened his eyebrows. "Have they? Interesting. _Very Interesting."_

 _A Potter back in the Knights? Like Nathaniel himself? I knew the boy was special… then again, hadn't Wormtail mentioned that he was a Parselmouth too? Too bad that there is too much bad blood between us. I wonder…._

"My Lord… my son has chosen his preference to bank on Potter's new agenda, and with that, I believe that the Dark Alliance will soon disintegrate with the winter Solstice, although…."

"Although?"

Tiberius considered it. The information was… _inflammatory._

"Rosaline Selwyn was seen attending Potter's little meeting as Lord Black. The Flint Heir was there as well, perhaps-" He glanced towards Flint who looked uneasy.

"What is it, Caractacus?" The dark Lord asked, his voice bordering on Parseltongue…

"It is my son, Augustin, my Lord. Ever since he has been to Potter's meet, he has been… well, different."

The Dark Lord's eyes shone blood red. "Indeed?"

Caractacus stayed quiet.

"First the Nott heir, and now Flint. What was so… special about this meet?"

"I-I have a memory of it, my Lord. I procured it to show it to you."

The Dark Lord smiled.

* * *

"Miss Greengrass, let me warn you once again. Should you take the oath, the Knights own ' _you_ '. If you are unsure, you are free to ask for obliviation and return back home. I am sure Lord Black will be able to continue without your help from now on. After all," Serena smiled, and not for the first time, Daphne glimpsed her _unnaturally sharp white teeth,_ he is among _family."_

Daphne looked conflicted. On the one hand, she was all for being with Harry for the rest of her life, and be a part of his ups and downs. She had spent an entire week, weighing the pros and cons of the act. There was no objection over that point. The Knights however… were an entirely different box of flubberworms.

The Potters were part of the Knights. Harry Potter, the Lord Black, was the heir of Slytherin. Harry Potter was joining the Knights. Theodore Nott had been inducted into the Knights' breathen. The oldest surviving organization since existence.

It boggled the mind.

Daphne Greengrass loved her independence. She loved manipulation, and she had loved it when she had her hooks on Harry Potter himself. She had been caught off-guard when she realized that she had started _liking_ Harry Potter. She had been surprised when Harry Potter, despite knowing how much control he had over her as the Lord Black, never sought to control her. She was shocked beyond belief when Harry Potter, despite knowing that she had been manipulating her all along, had accepted her back into her life.

" _ **You know I have manipulated you all along. What do you want from me in return?"**_

 _ **Harry smiled. "A partner in all things."**_

" _ **But-"**_

" _ **Gryffindors do what is right. Slytherins do what is necessary. I am both Gryffindor and Slytherin. I think the right and necessary thing to do is not to let my girlfriend walk away."**_

" _ **Moron." She had whispered, before kissing him.**_

She wasn't sure if it was love. She had told him the other day that she loved him, although she was sure that at least, she wouldn't ever betray him. She had initially wanted the power of being the wife of someone so politically powerful as the Boy-who-lived and Lord Black, but she had got much, much more in return.

In ways she didn't expect.

 _Damn you, Harry Potter._

"I'm in." Daphne stated loudly. Harry stared at her curiously.

"You are?"

"I am. We are partners, remember? You go. I go." Daphne refuted.

"That's plain Gryffindorish, coming from you, Greengrass." Theodore commented.

"Bugger off, Nott." Daphne snapped absently. "I am in."

Serena smiled. "Very well."

* * *

 _ **"-I consider you as a fellow magical, capable of your own thought and decisions. You are free to walk away and join whichever alliance you wish. However, if in the future, you even try to hinder my path, I don't care how powerful you or your**_ _ **Dark Lord Voldemort**_ _ **might be, we will come to blows."**_

The memory ended with a contemplative Dark Lord sitting silently, as his followers sat and watched him for any possible reactions. The worst case would be the Cruciatus, although it would be hindering his own motives, since people were already flocking to Potter's words and beliefs.

"Interesting." The dark lord muttered. He stood up, and addressed everyone. "Plans change. Potter doesn't seek to fight us actively, so we will return the same in the same order as it was given. Until Potter or his… _possible allies_ hinder our goals, Harry Potter and his allies aren't to be attacked. The Ministry and Albus Dumbledore remain high-priority targets as before."

Flint nodded.

"What about Severus?" Nott asked. "And Malfoy? Lucius isn't going to take it all, considering Potter actively attacked his heir."

"It is a Black family matter, and I will not make my hands dirty in this situation. Our cause is more important than the little games that school children play to bolster their egos."

Flint looked positively sour.

"As for Severus… he needs more… delicate touch, in this situation. Our slippery friend hangs too much on Dumbledore's shoulders for my liking."

"As you wish, my Lord."

* * *

 **Meanwhile at Hogwarts…**

Hermione Granger finished the extra project she was working on for Professor Watson and closed the folder. It was almost strange that the Defence Professor had given her a defence project, instead of Harry who was remarkably, much better than she was. Yes, it was true that she could possibly recite off a greater variety of spells, but it was Harry who could learn them once and then cast them as if he had been casting the spell for years. And now, with all the private training he had been doing since the summer, Hermione was sure that his spell repertoire had matched hers, if not exceeded. And she was happy- after all, this was Harry.

She walked all the way to the Professor Watson's office, and knocked on the door. A distant 'Come-in' welcomed her, and she entered into the office. It was, surprisingly, to her liking. The classroom seemed like a mini-library itself, with books dealing with versatile amount of magic-runes, Arithmancy, spell creation- in fact, she was sure that there were more books _unrelated to_ Defence than the ones on the subject.

"Miss Granger." Professor Watson called out from a distance, and Hermione could see her closing a tome away before coming up towards her. "Take a seat."

Hermione eased herself on the chair, as the Defence Professor took the one behind the desk.

"I know you must be wondering about why I called you at such short notice." She began.

"I did," Hermione answered, before hastily adding,"—professor."

The woman smiled. "Hermione, may I call you Hermione," - a nod and she continued, "—the reason for bringing you in is to discuss a matter of supreme importance. A matter, I might add, more important than anything else- your OWLS, NEWTS, Albus Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort and of course, Harry Potter."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You believe that he is back?"

"Yes."

Hermione could swear that the professor looked amused.

"Is that why Professor Dumbledore brought you in? So that you can teach us how to defend ourselves properly?" Hermione shot with stopping, "I was so worried about DADA when I got the Slinkhard book in the beginning."

Professor Watson openly snorted.

Hermione stopped her tirade instantly at such a bizarre reaction.

"I am sorry, I also happen to suffer from that same habit of going on and on without stopping. I suppose this is how it must appear to others."

Hermione looked at her sheepishly. "I am sorry."

"I understand." She moved slightly towards her, pulling the chair up front to be closer to the table. Hermione found the action vaguely familiar.

"As I was saying, there is something I need to discuss with you, but before everything else,"—she snapped her wand out, and muttered something obscure as a silvery ward materialised around them like a dome, before turning incorporeal.

"Privacy dome, I hope you understand."

Hermione didn't. she couldn't understand why the Defence professor was demonstrating such a high level of paranoia in her own office.

"It's kind of, difficult to try and explain some _things_ to you, and trust me, these are _confidential_ things. I will need a vow of silence before I continue."

"What is it about, Professor?" Hermione asked, a little wariness lining her voice.

"I figured you would be difficult." Watson muttered, "very well. It is about Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort."

"What about them?" Hermione retorted.

"I cannot say until you take the vow. For Merlin's sake, was I- I mean, it is necessary."

Hermione looked at her warily. "Very well, I will swear the vow of silence, but I swear if you are hoping to hurt Harry-"

"I am _not_ going to hurt Harry- Potter!" Watson snapped.

That seemed to do it for Hermione. She raised her wand and took the oath. A shade of magenta washed over her as the oath took effect.

Professor Watson sighed. "I have played this out in my mind several times, and each time I came across a new problem, so I suppose I will just try the blunt path this time."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, both confused and curious at the same time.

The Professor walked up from her table and sat in front of her, as her left hand went beneath her own robes, as she pulled out a locket hanging from her neck.

" _Identitatem ostendere."_

Hermione watched with surprise and shock as the familiar chestnut hair turned into a _very familiar_ bushy brown hair, although it was a lot more tamed than her own, while her high cheek bones lowered a little as her eyes became a very, very familiar shade of brown.

"You- You are…." Hermione felt the ground slipping off her feet, "you are… Me?"

* * *

 **In an unplottable location near Wales…**

The dinner table was set, and the guests were already filling in. After all, this was the first time in the _seventeen_ years that the Selwyn family was having a formal dinner. The family had never had a dinner together in all this time, a normal thing considering that the members preferred _feeding_ in isolation.

The blood-red table cloth, made of pure acromantula silk was put over the dinner table- a long-followed tradition that the family reserved for their _extended_ family meetings, and surprisingly, the latest whispers from Hogwarts were enough for a formal dinner to be held.

Rosaline Selwyn sat on one end of the long dinner table, while her Grandfather, the present Lord of Selwyn, Salvatio Selwyn sat on the other end. The distant relatives of the Family, namely Jacob Krum and his son Victor, and Sebastian Warrington, with his family- had arrived. The rest of the Selwyn family occupied seats on one end while the invited relatives sat at the other end.

"Let the dinner begin." Grandfather Selwyn spoke clearly, although there was a slight eeriness associated with his voice. The food automatically appeared on the dining place, though the Selwyn's did not, with the exception of Rosaline herself, demonstrate any eagerness or liking for it. It wasn't surprising, after all- Rosaline wasn't old enough to develop the acquired tastes.

"I cannot believe-" Cassius Warrington, the seventh-year Slytherin was speaking-"—that the great Selwyn's are holding a dinner party to discuss about a filthy-"

 _Snikt!_

 _Crash!_

"Are you insane?" Cassius growled, leaping up from the chair, "—you sent a bone-breaker at ME?"

Rosaline just smirked. "I thought it would make things much more clear. If you remember, Malfoy had to face the brunt of the same spell."

"Cassius, sit calm." Sophia Warrington, Cassius's mother and the Lady of the House, hissed in his ear.

Cassius controlled himself and sat down, ignoring the wide smirk on Rosaline's face.

"I have a memory from the Slytherin common room, one which I am sure, some members-" Rosaline glanced at her grandfather, "—will find interesting."

Cassius muttered a soft expletive under his breath.

The family Pensieve floated up to the centre of the Dinner table, and Rosaline drew out a silvery thread of her memory using her wand, before dropping it into the churning silvery waters of the Pensieve. The memory was projected outward, almost as if they were now inside the memory despite being seated at the dinner table. They all saw the confrontation between Malfoy and Harry. Grandfather Selwyn even muttered a soft 'Ah!' when Potter levitated Malfoy using his own magic, and smirked as they saw the Malfoy brat struggling and gasping for air. They saw the shining silvery aura rising out of Potter- Evangeline Selwyn, Rosaline's mother even licked her lips- and saw him throw the powerful bone-breaker, as the brat let out a shriek of pain. Cassius looked positively nauseous for a moment, before he controlled his expression, much to Rosaline's smirk.

"Any moment now…" She whispered.

 _ **"Curse you, Potter!" Malfoy was yelling, while at the same time, trying his level best to control himself from crying out in pain.**_

 _ **Potter levelled his wand towards Malfoy, right in the eye. The wand edged closer, standing dangerously close to the boy's face. "Tell me**_ _ **cousin**_ _ **, what is there to stop me from sending another spell right between your eyes? I bet from this distance, it would hurt…**_ _ **a lot."**_

 _ **Malfoy gulped.**_

 _ **"You have been a nuisance for a long, long time, Draco Malfoy.**_ _ **You shall never trouble me, ever, ever again."**_

 _ **The last statement flowed down his lips almost like a command, and almost in unison, Draco Malfoy**_ _ **obeyed,**_ _ **as if his entire mind set changed as the command registered in his mind. A sudden cloudiness appeared in the blonde boy's eyes as Potter's aura suddenly spiked a dangerous black for an instant before turning to silver.**_

 _ **"I-, I- understand. Potter."**_

 _ **Harry Potter slowly lifted the wand off Malfoy's face. "I want to make some things extremely clear. I am not responsible for Cedric Diggory's death. You all know who is, and I honestly don't give two knuts over whether you want to accept it or not…but I will tell you this. I am done with the hate and the bashing. Attack me or my girlfriend without provocation, and I will destroy you all. Taunt me without reason, and I will teach you pain."**_

The memory faded, as the illusions of the Pensieve vanished from reality.

"That was intense." Victor Krum spoke out for the first time. "I mean, I knew that the boy had potential, but a _fucking_ aura- I can see why the Goblet chose him as Champion."

The Selwyn's didn't even consider showing a reaction to that statement. Their eyes were reserved for the Head of the Family, who seemed completely shell-shocked for some reason.

"Rosaline, that memory isn't corrupted, is it? _Is it?"_ He hissed vehemently, standing up and shaking the dinner table with an unnatural force, enough to cause cracks in the granite table.

"No doubt about that, Grandfather."

"You mean to say that he did… he did…" Evangeline stuttered.

"The Malfoy Brat obeyed. Didn't you see?" Grandfather Selwyn hissed.

"What is so special about it? Was it a Confundus charm? It could be since Malfoy was acting weird after that. Some people mentioned family magic too, though Potter wasn't taken in by the Ministry or anything." Cassius spoke out loudly.

"Sophia, for the last time, control your son or I will end the Warrington line myself. The dinner is disbanded, since the _Dark God_ is finally going to return."

"I thought it was a myth. The psychic powers of the Fallen-"

" _Do not mention the words!"_ Grandfather Selwyn hissed vehemently. "Words have power- You, ignorant woman! The dinner is disbanded. We have work to do!"

"Dark God? Potter?"

"We aren't talking about Potter, Krum! We are talking about the spirit of our- The Fallen- and this is just the first indication we have received in centuries." Evangeline mocked Victor.

"You think this spirit- I mean, I don't understand." Victor replied, eyeing the Selwyn woman warily.

"Didn't you see Malfoy obey? Didn't you see the black flames? Didn't you see the stirring in the ancient magics saying that it is time for our Dark God to rise again?" Evangeline cried.

"Victor." Jacob Krum spoke, "these are _issues_ that you do not understand. Let us leave, the dinner is over."

Victor eyed the odd people he had been knowing as _relatives_ all his life. One thing was sure, something had happened, and by the way the Selwyn's were rejoicing, something _big_ was about to happen. Perhaps it was time he wrote a letter to his friend and fellow Triwizard Champion. Yes, a letter to Harry Potter was in order.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I suppose that was a cliff-hanger, or technically, cliff-hangers?  
**


	15. Chapter 15: Challenge

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _The Professor walked up from her table and sat in front of her, as her left hand went beneath her own robes, as she pulled out a locket hanging from her neck._

" _Identitatem ostendere."_

 _Hermione watched with surprise and shock as the familiar chestnut hair turned into a_ _very familiar_ _bushy brown hair, although it was a lot more tamed than her own, while her high cheek bones lowered a little as her eyes became a very, very familiar shade of brown._

 _"You- You are…." Hermione felt the ground slipping off her feet, "you are… Me?"_

* * *

Professor Emma Watson, or rather Hermione Granger, Hit-wizard and Rune Specialist from the future, stared at her younger self with something akin to amusement as the younger girl's face changed shades enough to convince any unsuspecting person that she held some metamorphic traits in her.

"but- but how—how could that be _possible?"_

Emma smiled. "Shouldn't be difficult. Figure it out yourself."

Hermione swallowed. "A time turner?"

"In a manner of saying," Emma tilted her head curiously, a trait both of them shared- "although I'm afraid it isn't available for service any longer."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed. She couldn't imagine herself- her future self, breaking the laws of Time so flamboyantly and being so _cool_ about it.

"Never mind. What is important is that I am here for good, and that there are a few things I need to correct back here, and some of them involve you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "how do I know that you are Me and not some imposter?"

Emma sighed. 'I figured this would come up. What do you want me to do? Swear an oath?"

"Too many loose-ends," Hermione replied absently, "If you are me, tell me something only I would know at this time."

Emma scrunched her face. _"You confunded Cedric Diggory to help Harry during the Yule Ball by suggesting the Prefect's Bath."_

Hermione's eyes widened.

"Good enough?"

"I'm sold." Hermione sighed. "What about _Bad things happen to wizards who mess with Time?"_

"I am a _witch."_ Emma grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Mcgonagall would have kittens if she ever found out."

"Who's going to say her? You? I can't help but imagine the embarrassment of being busted by my own younger-self."

Hermione laughed. "Is that why you decided to open up to me?"

"Kind of." Emma tilted her head again.

"So, I imagine something went seriously wrong in the future."

"You can say that again." Emma muttered.

"What do you mean?"

Emma held Hermione by her shoulders. "I came back to fix a lot of mistakes I did, and that means preventing you from doing the same."

"But shouldn't you speak to Dumbledore about-"

"Hermione," Emma stressed, "let me tell you two things. One, you cannot _trust_ Albus Dumbledore. And two, Harry Potter is _dead_ in the time I am from."

"Oh." That was all Hermione managed to say.

* * *

 **Meanwhile with the Zabini's…**

A windswept Harry Potter stood alongside the three other Slytherins- Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass, accompanied by the Contessa herself, as they all found them in the middle of a dry grassland. There wasn't a human soul in a mile's radius at least- only the dull grey sky above and a _very familiar_ structure a significant distance away.

"Where are we?" Harry asked.

"Salisbury."

"Salisbury, I mean, in England?"

Serena nodded. "And now, we are two steps far away from our destination." She held out the old Germanic sword, she had used as a portkey to arrive there, and muttered something incoherent, making it glow with a bluish sheen once again. "Hold on tight."

 _SWOOP!_

It was rather quick this time. Before the spinning could actually begin, they had reached their destination. Harry dropped down on the ground, coughed a bit and took a deep breath.

"Not good with portkeys?" Theodore asked.

"Not my favourite way to travel. Give me a broom any day."

Theodore laughed. "Of course."

"Since when are you a part of the Knights?" Harry asked the other boy.

"Enough, we have reached. Behold…." Serena replied, her tone lining with reverence. The huge lithic structure in front of them was indeed a masterpiece, what with the way those stones were arranged to form circular rings concentrically, with runes engraved into them, not to mention that the entire structure seemed to be engraving a complex runic matrix itself on the ground at first sight. It felt a little bad to see some of the rocks had weathered away due to erosion, breaking away, as if like a scratch on the face of something so… precious.

"Stonehenge?" Harry replied with wonder.

"Our entrance point. Yes." Serena walked up and placed her palm on one of the large thirty-ton rock, built using a fusion of sandstone fused with goblin silver. The surface in contact with her palm shone brightly as her hand passed into the rock.

"Is that like the platform at Kings' cross?" Harry questioned.

"In some ways, yes." Serena answered, "—now follow along." She walked into the layer of rock and vanished. Theo followed swiftly after.

"After you," Blaise commented, as Harry looked at him. "We can't have the two of you sitting out here because you couldn't enter, can we?"

Harry nodded and pressed his palm on the surface. He felt a foray of magic, almost like a tendril, enter through his skin and merge with his own. The rock shone brightly as he swallowed, and walked in. Daphne and finally Blaise followed him inside.

"What the-" Harry muttered audibly, as he took in the surroundings. The pillar on the King's Cross platform opened into a pocket dimension, one that connected the real platform hosting the Hogwarts' express to the King's Cross Station. This however, seemed to be an entirely different world. Snow fell down in flaks from the night sky, as Harry found himself standing on snowy ground. The contrasting fact was that lightning tore down the sky periodically, giving it all a very surreal look. Harry could swear that the flaky outlines in the sky were planets. It eerily reminded him of the ceiling of the Hogwarts Great Hall.

"You are not wrong." Serena muttered, but enough for him to hear it. "Legends say that Rowena Ravenclaw fashioned the ceiling of the Great Hall mimicking this… beauty. After all, mimicry is the best form of appreciation of art."

"You mean, that- that is natural?" Harry asked, dumbstruck.

"Magical, yes. But natural. That is raw magic at work. Pure, unadulterated magic."

"Where are we?" He asked in wonder.

"Depends on whom you ask." Serena answered. "For the Germans, you are on Mount Broken, the highest peak of the Harz Mountains. For the Transylvanians, we are on Mount Negrul. Bermuda Triangle, the Superstition Mountains, The Devil's Sea. For the British, the Stone Hedge."

"That cannot be possible." Daphne intervened. "All those spots are spread all around the world. How can we be all of them?" Harry had almost forgotten that the girl could be so Hermione-like at times.

"Where are we, actually?" Harry asked.

Serena smiled. "We are at all of them. Or perhaps, a place that magically connects all of them through natural pocket dimensions. A rare phenomenon in the universe."

"What is this place called?"

"This place, doesn't really have a proper name. Most of our breathen refer to it as _the Destination._ However, we do have a name in the muggle folklore, thanks to one of the Squibs who knew about this place and wrote about it."

Serena paused for a moment. "Walpurgis Night."

'That cannot be possible, "Daphne snapped, "Walpurgis Night is celebrated on April 30th, the beginning of Beltane if you consider the Old religion."

"Your knowledge is impressive but flawed," Serena explained. "At the onset of Beltane, the veil between this dimension and the rest of the world is the thinnest, and thus, they are able to feel the vibes given off from this dimension. This, is the real Walpurgis Night."

"What does that mean?" Harry asked no one in particular.

"I forgot that you weren't raised in a wizard home," Blaise exclaimed, " _Walpurgis Night is when, according to the belief of millions of people, the Devil is away—when the graves open and the dead come forth and walk When all evil things of earth and air and water hold revel."_

"And that is true?"

"To some extent. Good and evil are only a matter of polarity. The rest of the world would consider Necromancy as Evil, but for us, only the blessed among us could find within them the ability to perform it. This is the place in direct communion with the Ancient Veil of Death, a place from where we pay homage to the ancient powers that be, and use our magics for the protection of wizardkind."

"Okay." That was all Harry managed to say.

They took a step forward, and to Harry's surprise, there was a huge edifice in front of him, very much like the Roman Colosseum from outside. All around the edifice were huge rocks engraved on the ground in a circular fashion, just that the rocks appeared way more reflective than normal sandstone.

"What is that shiny substance?"

"Mithril." Serena whispered. As if that explained everything.

Harry found more questions rising up in his mind, but suppressed them for the moment. The more he learnt about the wizarding world, the more confused he became. He had thought that getting deep and involved in the arts would grant him answers, but all he found were more questions.

"Come on, in."

They crossed the main entrance and entered into the shadowy compound. High walls dominated the area, with the only light being the torches burning brightly that showed them the way to walk up front.

"Let me warn you, Harry Potter. Some among the breathen won't be taking your presence lightly. After all, it was your grandfather who rebelled against the Knights, which is synonymous to betrayal. You have to prove yourself worthy for a second chance, and only then will you be granted to all of the fortunes that you have a right to, as a Potter and a descendant of Peverell."

"And if I lose?" Harry asked.

"Then the fortunes stored here will pass back to the general treasury, and the Potters will have to make a fresh start here."

 _Of course._

"Of course, that is only if someone challenges you, and I assure you that the chances are quite slim."

"Why?"

"You are with _Me."_ She replied simply. There was no arrogance in the statement, only an underlying sense of pure, unshaken confidence that came from experience.

Harry nodded silently.

* * *

They crossed the main antechamber and treaded into what seemed to be a grand hall, with a lone corridor which served as its entry point. They walked past it into the Grand Hall which seemed to be occupied with people, all of them dressed in some kind of traditional wizard-robes. Harry had never seen such robes in his life- they seemed to be made of something rough akin to Dragon hide, with large boots, and their faces were covered in large hoods.

"Lady Serena." A feminine voice welcomed her.

Serena turned towards her left, as a hooded figure walked towards her, "Lady Flamel."

Harry spun to his left instantly, his neck turning so quick that he feared he almost sprained it. The person lifted off the hood to reveal the blonde woman, her face slightly pointed with sharp hawk-like eyes that burned with power.

 _Could this be-_

Said person glanced towards him momentarily, before her eyes caught Serena. "Who is this youngster with you?"

"Harry Potter." Serena replied simply.

Right then, several things happened. The woman, Lady Flamel, shot him a feral look, as a wave of powerful Legilimency slammed into his mental shields. With great pain, Harry somehow looked away, ignoring her piercing stare.

"So you are the boy that cost us the stone…" She spoke with raw anger in her voice.

Harry seemed confused, but didn't dare to look into her eyes directly. "I am sorry; I should have done better than that. I tried to prevent Quirrel from taking it away, and it got destroyed in the-"  
"Do you _think_ me to be some sort of _fool, Harry Potter?"_ Lady Flamel hissed, "That was the _Sorcerer's stone,_ not some magical toy that broke in the middle of the fight. It could withstand annihilation itself and not shatter. _You, and your cursed magic destroyed it."_

 _Why am I not surprised?_

"Lady Flamel? If I may?" Serena tried.

"Why is He here?"

Serena winced. For all her prowess, she had never seen this coming. "My Lady Flamel, he is the last of the Potters, the blood of Nathaniel and the descendant of the Peverells."

"His grandfather _betrayed_ the Knights long ago. He has no place to be here. He is just as worthless as-"

"ENOUGH!"

Silence.

Pin-drop silence.

Every single eye turned towards the new stranger, who had demonstrated the foolishness and the arrogance to yell at the Lady Flamel, the present Grandmaster of the Knights. Daphne and the rest were too tongue-tied to say anything.

Harry Potter was looking at the Lady Flamel, eye to eye, as an unearthly aura radiated out of his person, much to the surprise of others. _"Enough with the accusations."_ Harry hissed, his voice bordering on Parseltongue. "I do not know why my grandfather left the Knights, nor the implications of it doing so. I did not destroy your precious Sorcerer's stone nor did I have any intentions of doing so. If that stone was so precious, you shouldn't have handed it over to the manipulative bastard to lure Voldemort in."

Daphne shook her head in frustration. Trust Harry Potter to do something obscenely Gryffindorish like that.

Perenelle Flamel stared at him coldly. "Swear on what you just said." She hissed.

"He speaks the truth, Lady Flamel." Serena intervened. "I have information that matches with what he just stated. Albus Dumbledore did in fact, use the stone as a luring trap for Riddle's wraith."

"Nevertheless, he was the only person to hold the stone in his bare hands. It was his magic that destroyed it." Perenelle snarled in anger.

"That might be, but I was an eleven-year-old boy." Harry snarled back. "Maybe it was my magic, or may not, in either case, it was unintentional and I am sorry. I only wanted to protect the stone from Voldemort and it came to me. If you want to blame someone, you can blame the old man for bringing it to Hogwarts in the first place."

"Know your place, boy." Someone from the crowd roared.

"I know my place." Harry yelled back. "I came here so that I could be a part of the tradition followed in my family for ages. That said, I am not going to bear it silently if _someone_ throws baseless accusations at me."

"Your arrogance knows no bounds, boy." The same hooded person from the crowd returned. "Potter, you might be. But your family _betrayed_ our codices, and thus, you were disowned by the Knights."

"He isn't just here as Lord Potter, but Lord Slytherin." Serena intervened. She turned towards Harry, and whispered, "I am sorry for all of this. I did not know it would turn out like this."

"I challenge his candidature." A chorus of voices rang from the group.

"Serena," Harry muttered, "I will face their challenge. I have had enough of this."

"But-"

"Please!"

She turned back and faced the hooded man who was striding towards them. Lady Flamel however, was surprisingly quiet, staring at Harry with a hawk-like expression.

"Harry Potter will face a challenge to remove the tarnish on his family's honour, and fight for his family's position and fortune in the breathen." Serena declared.

"He is just a boy." Someone from the crowd snorted. "Go away, boy. We do not believe in the myth of the Boy-who-lived."

"I accept the challenge." Harry replied suddenly, surprising the man who had just laughed at him. Daphne looked at him in surprise from behind and took a step forward, wanting to pull him backwards and cure him of this madness.

"Till the Death?" The person removed his hood, and Harry could see his bald head, with his sharp, grey eyes gazing at him furiously.

"Yes!"

Serena looked at Harry, her face bearing an expression of horror. "Harry-"

Daphne stopped in her tracks, horrified. "Harry- what did you do?"

Harry spun back at her. "I have to. I am tired of being blamed for things beyond my control. This is my chance, and I will restore my family's honour, even if it takes my death to do so."

"That was a stupid, Gryffindorish thinking if I ever heard one," Nott declared, a strange expression on his face.

"Might be," Harry grinned mirthlessly, "but whatever it is, this is it."

"Potter-" Blaise tried.

"I have accepted, Zabini. Thank you for letting me know all that I didn't know about my family, but it is time I put an end to all of these _accusations."_

"Lady Flamel," Serena implored, "please do not allow this madness. A battle to Death? He is magically a child and-"

But Perenelle Flamel wasn't listening. Her eyes were peering at Harry deeply, her piercing stare almost judging his soul in the flares of her own magic. "Are you sure you want to fight him, Potter? That man is a Master of Flame Transfiguration."

"I will," came the clear reply. "-if it clears the tarnished reputation of my family."

"Even at the cost of your own demise?"

Harry nodded.

"Very well," she paused, her tone a little softer than before, "you shall fight him to the Death. I pray to the ancient Gods that your victory paves your new path here at the breathen, and if not, let your sacrifice wash away the betrayal of your predecessors."

* * *

The two wizards stood in the middle of an engraved runic circle, as they waited from Grandmaster Flamel to give the order to begin the fight. Harry eyed the man in front of him, wearing formal battle-robes- something which Harry had been given a pair to wear for the occasion- resistant to simple spells and low-powered jinxes and elemental attacks. Serena had told him that this was not official duelling, it was a battle. Everything was allowed, light, dark and even shit he could make up. All spells were fair game. Only Victory mattered, and hence, there was no question of holding back.

Harry glanced at Daphne, his girlfriend from over two weeks, who smiled at him hesitantly. He knew that the other Slytherins were considering it as an act of supreme Gryffindorish thinking, but he knew that this defiance was long-coming. For thirteen years of his life, he had either been _Freak_ or the fucking _boy-who-lived._ It had only been a few months that he had really discovered that being _Harry Potter_ meant something more than that, and for the first time, he had learnt that he too, had a family and a heritage to keep. He could suffer the accusations of the press and the students- they were habituated when it came to shaming him for their problems. After all, nothing was more exciting than watching a person fall down from his pedestal. However, this was different. This was family, and this was _one chance_ for him to do something for his own family. He hadn't been able to save his parents. The least he could do was help remove the grime on his family's reputation here at these hallowed grounds. There was no chance he would be able to stand against a Master, he knew it perfectly well, but he would shed every single drop of his magic in this one last act of defiance.

"Begin."

The Fire Master waved out his wand like a sword, which belched out hot flames like a hosepipe towards Harry in less than a second. The manner in which the man was able to manipulate elemental magic at such amazing speeds was testament to his skill. Harry did the only thing he had trained for, all this time.

He apparated.

Appearing right behind the man, he sent off a powerful bone-breaker, enough to pulverize the bone it hit, but the man dodged out of the way and returned fire using what seemed to be a fiery tornado manifesting all around him. The runes engraved on the circumference of the circle all around them flared, raising powerful wards to prevent any stray spell from escaping out instantly, trapping both of them inside.

Harry appeared on another direction and sent another dark hex, but the man tossed it away, before sending another hex but Harry was already gone.

"Fight like a warrior, Potter. What is this childish game?" The man snarled, as he waved his wand in complicated patterns, as the flames flickered dangerously all around him.

"I _am a child._ Stop asking me to fight like a man." Harry retorted back. Daphne tried hard to stop the chuckle that escaped her. With unbelievable speeds, Harry apparated, and disapparated all around him, and apparated once again, consistently firing hex after hex towards the man in the centre who used the flaming tornado around him to intercept the incoming wrath of Harry's spells.

"Enough is enough, Potter. The time to end the game is come."

He radiated his aura outward, as he cast his most powerful spell, one that had no counter. He waved his wand upward like a sword as the flames rushed up, ready to do his bidding, as he yelled…

"FIENDFYRE!"

Flames shot out in every direction, and smashed against the wards, which flared with a dangerous reddish glow.

"NOOOOOO!" Daphne yelled, as she stood up, ignoring Blaise's calls as she ran towards Harry who seemed to get engulfed by the cursed flames. Her eyes bulged out, as she saw the fire encompassing the entire ring. Harry might have been able to apparate but he was limited to being within the ring. She had jumped up to go towards the battle platform when-

 _Snikt!_

The man was suddenly lifted off by his ankle upwards as Harry Potter appeared high up in the air, his clothes burnt and smoking, much to her happiness and everyone's surprise. The Fire Master hit his head on the ground, as he freed himself from the simple hex.

Serena smirked.

* * *

Harry had seen the flames erupting outward and knew that there was no way he would be able to protect himself from the flames. The firestorm was encompassing the entire stadium and it was not possible to apparate anywhere else. A shield would have stopped elemental attacks but this, this was unstoppable.

A memory came up in his mind. Something from a half-remembered dream. Something about a huge wave of energy racing towards him in a similar fashion and he had-

Harry called in to his _aura_ to shield him.

The cursed flames hit him point-blank- his entire body seemed to burn with the heat of the flames, his aura only able to hold it back for some seconds, and he did the only thing he was able to do.

He apparated.

The cursed flames receded back to the Master's wand, a real testament to the man's skill, as Harry appeared high up above the ground. He spun in mid-air as he whispered, the intent loud and clear in his mind…

" _Perdere maximus!"_

A huge shaft of purple light shot out from his wand, as the man witnessed the dark pulverising curse race towards him. Hastily, he procured his strongest shield to defend against the dark hex, but Harry had been ready for it. His body was failing badly, an effect of using up his entire aura against the cursed flames, and yet, this was the only chance he would ever have to prove his worth for once and for all. It had never worked before, so this would either be his first success or his last failing attempt.

He shoved his wand forwards, and called in all the magic.

" _Fulminata ad infinitum!"_

An enormous shaft of pure, unadulterated white lightning sprang out of his wand, the energy propelling it like a tidal wave, as the monstrosity raced towards the Fire Master and slammed against his outer defences, flinging him away towards the already-red ward barrier. The huge fork of lightning tore its way through the man's defences, his protective flames, and struck his shield, slamming against it and shattering it into pieces, as Harry Potter lost control of the spell and plunged down onto the ground, unconscious.

The man slammed against the wards, using his innate power to hold on to his shield, knowing very well that the enormous lightning bolt would be more than enough to fry his nervous system should it hit him. The shields flared angrily but held, as the source of the lightning- the boy, lost control and fell down onto the ground. The flames had already receded as he saw him fall down with a heavy thud, as the lightning fork slowly dissipated away. He slowly slid down onto the ground, his entire body aching from the battle, as he slowly stood up, waving his wand towards the boy who had fought him well. However, the rules of the breathen were fixed. A battle to the death ended with a death.

 _Harry Potter had to die._

He raised his wand as he looked at the boy in front of him. He would grant him an easy, quick death. His lips moved on their own… "Avada…"

"ENOUGH!"

The curse died in his throat. He stared in surprise as the Grandmaster stood up, and the wards flickered out of existence. Lady Perenelle Flamel walked down towards the battle platform from her chair, her eyes blazing with the uncontrolled power behind them. "The boy has proved his mettle. He has fought against his challenger and held true to the original traditions and vows of the Potters. I accept his request to enter the breathen and reclaim his familial heritage."

No one challenged the words of the Grandmaster herself.

Perenelle Flamel turned towards Serena. "Make sure he is healed. I hope he has permission for leave from Hogwarts?"

Serena nodded.

"Inform me when he is healed. I need to know the true reasons why my idiot of a husband had to lose his life because of the machinations of an old man, who didn't even flinch before placing all the blame on the magics of a child."

"Of course."

The Grandmaster looked at the rest of the breathen. "I declare the debt of House Potter paid back in full. Let Harry Potter reclaim his heritage hiding among our walls. Depending on the situations, I will declare a date for his ritual ceremony."

"But Lady Flamel," one of the other persons sitting commented, "he is but a child. He should be entered as an apprentice first, and then judged and-"

"I have spoken." Perenelle stated calmly. "Besides, it has been three centuries since a Lord Slytherin has held position amongst our walls." She glanced at Serena. "Take him back. Send me information when he is healed."

Serena nodded quietly.

* * *

 **Back at Hogwarts…**

"What do you mean?" Hermione eyed her older self warily. The two statements that she had just been revealed to, were so powerful, that she would rather believe that this was some trickster, or else, she had perhaps gone barmy in the future- it was still better than believing that the two statements were in fact, truth.

Emma sighed. "It's a long story."

"I'm all ears." Hermione quipped.

"I can't, well, tell _you_ everything."

"I can't imagine becoming so paranoid in the future, that I cannot even trust myself." Hermione retorted.

"Well, that wouldn't have happened if I didn't know that with the slightest provocation, my younger self would just dart off, running to the Headmaster and reveal everything, like you did with Harry's Firebolt."

Hermione looked at Emma sheepishly.

Emma sighed. "It is true, and no I am not barmy. I am a hit-witch for the Ministry of magic and a specialist at Runes. And no, I am not married to that _bastard_ of a Weasley you call a best friend."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. It seemed that Ronald Weasley did not, in fact, mentally grow up in the near future. Whatever had happened, must have been significant to cause her to swear like that. That, or her habits changed in the future.

"What did you mean by Harry being dead? Did Voldemort-"

"No." Emma interrupted. "It was _Albus Dumbledore_ and his machinations."

Understandably, Hermione fainted right away.


	16. Chapter 16: The Future Past

**Previously on Ragnarok...**

 _Hermione raised an eyebrow. It seemed that Ronald Weasley did not, in fact, mentally grow up in the near future. Whatever had happened, must have been significant to cause her to swear like that. That, or her habits changed in the future._

 _"What did you mean by Harry being dead? Did Voldemort-"_

 _"No." Emma interrupted. "It was Albus Dumbledore and his machinations."_

 _Understandably, Hermione fainted right away._

* * *

The first words that Hermione Granger spoke, on waking up and finding herself in the Hospital Wing were…

"Where is Professor Watson?"

Understandably, the DADA professor sat behind her table as she observed (with curiosity and amusement no less) at her younger self who had just bolted in, and banged hard on her table, asking her to clarify her words and to tell her, on threat of killing herself- about what the _hell_ had happened in the future.

Emma folded her hands on the table and banged her head down.

A couple of minutes later and a number of powerful charms and oaths later, the two witches sat down across the table.

"Where to begin…" Emma wondered.

"The beginning would be a good place to start." Hermione retorted.

Emma's lips quivered at her younger self scoffing at her, but considering the situations, it was expected. "Tell me Hermione, do you _love_ Harry?"

Whatever Hermione had been expecting, this was certainly not it. She held her breath, as she swallowed, before realizing that this was her own future self—it was obvious she would know what she knew.

Hermione bobbed her head once, slowly.

"And… does Harry know about it?"

Hermione scowled. "I bet you know the answer to that already."

Emma frowned. "I know. My question is, why are you waiting?"

Hermione scowled. "I thought he wasn't interested in me."

Emma pushed back into her comfortable chair. "let me tell you what is about to happen. In my time, Voldemort induced Harry to go to the Department of Mysteries, and there, the Order has a big fight against Voldemort's death eaters. Bellatrix Lestrange kills off Sirius who falls into the Veil."

Hermione failed to stop the lone tear from falling off.

"Do you know what the weapon is, that the Order is protecting on Dumbledore's Orders?"

Hermione scrunched her face. "They are putting it as some kind of weapon, though I think they are just being symbolic about it."

"Ten points to Gryffindor." It brought Emma immense pleasure to do so. Maybe Severus Snape found pleasure in the same way. She frowned when it hit her that she had just compared herself with the greasy bat of the dungeons.

"It is a prophecy. To be precise, a rather woolly attempt by Trelawney, but unfortunately, something in which both Dumbledore and Voldemort believe in."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "A prophecy? They are protecting a prophecy orb? But… aren't prophecy orbs protected by ancient magics itself? Are they…. Crazy?"

Emma sighed. "You can say that again. Nobody except Harry Potter can pick the orb from its place, and despite that, Dumbledore is bent on protecting it."

"But he could just take Harry and-"

"That's Albus Dumbledore for you." Emma scoffed, "Anyway, precisely after the fight, Dumbledore reveals Harry the contents of the Prophecy, which in simple terms, indicates that Harry was the only one who could kill Voldemort."

"Right after Sirius's death? Of all the times…." Hermione growled.

Emma nodded her head absently. "They have a huge row, and Harry leaves Hogwarts for good, to reside at Grimmauld Place."

"What? Harry left Hogwarts? What about his OWLS and-" Hermione stopped midway, as it hit her, "-right! I- understand."

"Daphne went off with him, while I and Ron stayed back at Hogwarts, as members of the Order. For the entire sixth year, I never heard anything from him- only that he was spotted in fights against Death eaters- a vigilante by what Order members and the Ministry were calling him. The Ministry, still under Fudge, wanted him in custody for his use of dark arts publicly- while the Order members condemned him because they feared he had gone dark. Ronald was especially vicious about it."

"I can relate. He probably thought it as a betrayal that Harry had moved in with Daphne and was resorting to the use of the Dark Arts in battle."

"Precisely."

Hermione looked at her. "What happened then?"

"Dumbledore was mad. He wanted Harry captured and brought to Hogwarts, but no one, not even Alastor Moody was successful in doing so. On Dumbledore's coercion, the man did battle Harry once though- but he was defeated and came back proud, saying that he was glad that there was someone who truly had it in him to put an end to the mess that that Voldemort. Dumbledore confronted him, and Moody spat on his face saying that he was leaving the Order. That was the last time I saw the man."

"What happened to him?"

Emma smiled.

"He joined forces with Harry, and brought in a number of muggleborn witches and wizards who were good enough to fight. The Legion- they called themselves, and they fought off almost eighty percent of the Death eater attacks."

"And the remaining twenty percent?"

Emma scowled. "Order members were present, especially Dumbledore. The Legion never came in, if the Order members were present. Minister Fudge had called Harry a vigilante, and had put a bounty on him." Emma chuckled. "The next day Minister Fudge was seen running down Diagon Alley with nothing except his underwear."

Hermione guffawed.

Emma's face turned serious. "Dumbledore then turned to me to aid him in tracking Harry."

"What?" Hermione asked, her eyes blazing, "tell me you didn't-"

"it was different back then. Dumbledore was effectively my teacher, teaching me how to use my skills to attack and defend, and of course, it was limited to light and gray spells. He preferred to teach us counter curses than to teach us offensive spells."

Hermione muttered an expletive under her breath.

"I designed an artefact to track Harry, and it even worked. But I am proud to say that my best friend managed to evade all our attempts to get hold of him." Emma replied with a blazing smile. "Dumbledore was mostly busy, hunting for…. Well, some things that helped Voldemort become technically immortal. I cannot name them since the wily old man has wards all around the castle monitoring the use of the ward."

Hermione cursed again.

"It was almost at the end of the seventh year, when Voldemort decided to take the war to Hogwarts. His entire army attacked the castle. Amelia Bones and the entire DMLE had come to our help, at least as many as she had managed to bring, as did the Order. We were some eighty people plus Dumbledore, add another thirty if you count some of the students that helped us- fighting against an entire army."

"How many people were there in His side?" Hermione asked.

"Two thousand, and that includes acromantula, trolls, giants, werewolves, vampires, goblins and death eaters."

Hermione drew a long breath.

Emma smirked. "So no pressure."

Hermione scowled. "You should all have been butchered to pieces. Not that I am complaining, but it was impossible to win."

Emma smiled. "We would have. Dumbledore was fighting Voldemort. Me, Ginny and Luna were fighting against Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. The rest of Dumbledore's Army-"

"You mean the Order?"

"Oh right, I forgot. That part changed with my time-travel. Initially in my fifth year, Fudge sent a supreme bitch to come to Hogwarts as the DADA professor. Trust me, my fingers still itch to curse her body with one of my rotting curses, and believe me when I say, I am bloody good with them."

"Isn't that a dark curse?" Hermione questioned.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Anyway, so I decided that in order to pass our OWLS and to learn how to defend ourselves against the Death eaters, we should teach ourselves Defence. I kind of, pushed Harry forward for the role."

 _Perfectly believable._

"We were a group of teenagers learning to fight and defend. The ministry feared that Dumbledore was building his own army in the school, so we decided to stick it up to the Ministry and name ourselves Dumbledore's Army," - Hermione snorted- "which is ironic, since Dumbledore never taught the army anything. Harry was the one to teach us. Anyway, the DA was fighting the lower ranks of the Death eaters while the Ministry Aurors and Hit-wizards encountered the more powerful ones."

"I suppose a lot of people died?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Yes. Dumbledore lost, and Voldemort was just about to finish him off when Harry Potter came to our rescue."

Hermione felt her hopes rise back again.

"He and the Legion destroyed the outer flanks of the Death eaters, and used unconventional techniques to make the trolls and the giants fight amongst each other, causing instability in Voldemort's army. It was like… breathing again after a long time."

"Then?"

"Dumbledore had been transported back to his office by Fawkes while Harry faced Voldemort himself. It was something else, watching him battle. He was using two weapons- his own phoenix wand as well as the sword of Gryffindor as he fought through the hordes of the death eaters. No stunners, no bludgeoners, just widespread severing curses, pulverising hexes and Fiendfyre used benevolently. He burned the Lestrange brothers with one single spell. The official count was that he killed over six hundred of the death eater army single-handedly."

Hermione's hand went up to her mouth.

"I know. As I said, it wasn't a war. It was a massacre. People had stopped fighting, and looked in awe and fear as he butchered anyone and everyone who came in his path." She paused, "- then Voldemort faced him."

Hermione held the edges of the table tightly.

"It was something else, watching them battle. It was watching two Gods fight. Both had conjured up Fiendfyre- with Harry's being a Gryffin while Voldemort's a basilisk, which snapped and bit each other, as the great fiery creatures destroyed the Hogwarts grounds. Several hundreds of Voldemort's own forces were decimated by the two creatures, while Harry fought off Voldemort single-handedly. Elemental spells, fire, lightning, dark arts- their magic was saturating the air until Harry locked Him in a battle-of wills and finished him off with a dark spear."

Emma paused. "The battle ended instantly. Even the death eaters were afraid of the young teenager who had decimated the majority of their forces. Harry… he was something else. Even Amelia Bones stayed away."

Emma paused again. "Will it surprise you that he was painted as a Dark Wizard and upcoming Dark Lord a month later?"

"Rita Skeeter?" Hermione gritted her teeth.

Emma just smiled, though the emotion was missing.

"I shouldn't have let her get away after I caught her in fourth year." Hermione muttered under her breath. "That damned woman…."

"Something I managed to cure it this time around." Emma answered, "—did you notice something strange in the Daily Prophet recently?"

Hermione looked at her in surprise. "The new reporter, Jennifer Greene- I thought she was just"—Hermione stopped midway. "What did you do?"

Emma smirked. "Not so much did as will do." She took out a little jar from within her drawer, and Hermione recognized the beetle inside it. "Looks similar?"

"That's-" Hermione began, but Emma had already moved her wand toward the jar. _"Extermino."_ She muttered. The thin jet of mauve shot out of her wand and hit the beetle, which fell down at the bottom, lifeless.

Hermione stood up in shock, "You just-oh my God- _what did you do?"_

Emma looked at her curiously. "I just killed a beetle."

"But that's- won't you get-I mean, you effectively killed-"

"As far as I know, there is no registered _beetle_ animagus. And I used an _Extermino_ hex, used to kill insects and pests. I don't see where the problem is."

Hermione's hands went to her head. "Are you… like, _insane?"_

"Stop shouting." Emma hissed, " _This beetle,_ is responsible for what happened to Harry in the first place. Harry sacrificed so much to save Great Britain, and this _vile excuse of a witch_ destroyed his reputation, destroyed his life, only because she wanted to _spice up her articles a bit."_

Hermione wasn't sure what she wanted to think or say. It was almost… maddening to see _her future self, herself,_ taking a life so… casually.

"What… happened, in the future, that turned me into what _you_ are."

Emma smiled, a feral look in her eyes. "Life."

* * *

 **Meanwhile at the Gargoyle Conclave…**

 _He was running, not on two legs but on four limbs, feeling the potent energy coursing through his veins as he leapt from one spot to another- the strength and agility in his limbs pushing him faster and faster, crossing speeds of over five hundred kilometres per hour, although he knew it well that this is barely challenging his limit- after all, the guardian had to be faster and stronger than anything else in creation._

 _The plain seemed to ooze out flames, as the creature far in front of him wracked devastation all around. It had to be stopped and there was no way he would let it upset the balance- and this time, it would be stopped._

 _ **I will stop him.**_

 _He leapt towards the behemoth in front of him, which also let out a fearsome roar and plunged upwards towards him._

 _Bright green light, and a long, piercing scream…._

" _Harrrrryyyyy…"_

"Harry…"

"Harry, wake up!"

"Harry?"

The first thing he saw was dazzling bright light. He shut his eyes back, which hurt, before trying to open them back. This time he could see a faint outline of a familiar face…

"Daphne…."

He closed his eyes, and opened them again. This time the images became much more clear and distinct. Daphne's face was just inches above him, her bright icy blue eyes staring at him with an odd expression in them, something akin to worry…

"Can you get up?"

With supreme effort on his elbows, Harry pushed himself up, ignoring the sliver of pain in his muscles. His entire body felt like he had been hit by a hundred stinging hexes. He relaxed into the pillow at the head and sat up against it.

"Feeling better?"

Harry looked at her. "I'm okay."

'I didn't ask if you were dead or alive, Potter. I asked if you are feeling better."

Harry tried to grin. "I'm still here."

"Good." Daphne retorted as she sat beside him. "Else I would kick your arse back here from the afterlife if you didn't."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You really scared the hell out of me over there." Daphne fixed him with a feral stare, "-was it really necessary to fight there?"

Harry sighed. "It was… necessary for… reasons. However, I suppose that things did go well considering that I am-" His eyes widened-"Daphne, the Fire master, is he-?"

"He is very much alive." Daphne returned, "Though had you not fallen off unconscious, your lightning spell would have finished him off."

"Then… how am I alive?"

"Lady Flamel stopped the battle."

Harry turned around as he heard Serena's voice. "You seemed to have made some kind of impression on her, Potter. She declared you worthy to reclaim your heritage, and is waiting for a moment to talk to you about the events regarding… you know what."

Harry slowly nodded. "Right." He looked around, and finding himself inside a normal room, he asked, "- where exactly am I?"

"Back at Gargoyle Conclave. You have been unconscious for over seven hours."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Some time ago, you started to glow and your body started to heat up." Serena answered.

"You were literally burning, Potter. I know that girls like men to be hot but that was just overkill." Blaise joked, standing beside Theodore who was sitting near the open window on the left.

Daphne rolled her eyes.

Harry's mind went back to the summer following the Dementor incident, when he had likely suffered from a similar condition.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_

"What happens now?"

Serena considered his question. "Lady Flamel will be arriving shortly. Apparently, you have some unfinished business with her. After that, you and Miss Greengrass will be going back to Hogwarts with Master Nott and Blaise."

"And about the Alliance?" Harry asked after a moment.

Serena gathered her words. "You are a part of the Knights- you are family. The Knights breathen is more than any alliance, and you can expect aid from us just like your great-grandfather helped us in time of need."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

"You will need to return back to Hogwarts. The Winter Solstice is approaching, and if you intend to make the Wizengamot Winter session _entertaining,_ there is a lot of workload gathered up. Clock's ticking, Harry Potter. Learn quickly, now."

"For the record, Potter," Theodore replied, "-if you must know, Rosaline Selwyn _was interested_ in you, and trust me, it wasn't because of what you said or did during the meeting."

Harry looked confused. "I don't understand."

Theodore smirked. "Nobody does. The Selwyns are… _strange._ Even the darker families like mine and Malfoy, we all keep them at arm's length. I am not sure why, but there is something _very, very dangerous_ about the Selwyns, and Merlin forbid, you find yourself in a position to deal with them. Not as an ally, at least."

"As enemies then?"

Blaise laughed. "Potter, when it comes to the Selwyn family, friends come and go, but enemies _accumulate._ I hear that the Selwyns are always buying newer and newer closets to showcase the heads of those that stood against them."

Harry swallowed.

* * *

 **Back at Hogwarts….**

"The time after the war was… _strange._ Things were too complicated to make any sense out of it. For starters, Fudge proclaimed Harry Potter as a vigilante, who was a threat to the wizarding society, citing his powers as a Parselmouth and his propensity to use the Dark Arts- not that it did any good to him. Even the Aurors were afraid of Harry Potter—too afraid to even consider arresting him. Despite being a recluse, Harry's status in the Wizarding World was as good as a Dark Lord. Dumbledore was a war-hero and the Order of the Phoenix became a celebrated organization. Lucius Malfoy had been able to get out of prison once again by throwing his money around, all though the Malfoys were no longer as powerful as they once were. Dumbledore reigned the Wizengamot, and the Light faction stood at a majority."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." Hermione returned.

"Then the problems began. The new administration effectively had the Chief Warlock at the very top—the Minister of Magic was simply an extension of it, a post to head over the entire Executive department, while the Wizengamot stayed at the top of the Legislature, and even there, the word of Albus Dumbledore was law."

Emma took a deep breath. "Two years later. It was time for the Ministry elections. Ronald Weasley had joined politics, and he had gathered up quite a following using his own status as war-hero, and with Dumbledore's support, and his bias against anything remotely Dark, he was quickly in position to become the new Minister of Magic. There was just one problem."

Emma looked at Hermione. "Daphne Greengrass. She was the other candidate. Wife of Harry Potter, the Lord Potter and Black, pureblood and supporter of the old customs and traditions of the wizarding world, vouching for the freedom to practice any kind of magic. The fringe families and the Dark Alliance wholeheartedly supported her. Even Albus Dumbledore failed to fight her off when it came to pure logic. For all of Ronald's influence, Daphne Greengrass was unstoppable when it came to debate, and with the days passing, it became more and more clearer than Daphne Greengrass would be a better candidate than Weasley could ever be."

"I can vouch for that even now." Hermione added.

"Yes, and she would even win, when something happened." Emma paused, not sure how to continue. "The night before the main Ministerial debate," Emma paused again, "-James Sirius Potter, Harry's son, was found dead, mutilated in front of the Black House."

Hermione palmed her mouth in shock. "Don't tell me-"

"The next morning, Ronald Weasley was found dead, killed in the most brutal way imaginable. He had been literally skinned out, using a curse that was recognized to be created by Cassiopeia Black, Sirius's ancestor."

"Did Harry-"

"I don't think so. At least, I do not know. All we know is that the curse was used, and Harry's magical signature was present in that room. Albus Dumbledore ordered the entire hit-wizard army to capture Harry Potter by any means- and they all raided the Black Home."

Emma sat silently for a moment. "It was a mistake. They raided into the Black Manor without permission, and well, you know how lethal the wards can be. In less than a minute, ten mutilated dead bodies lay fallen at the entrance of the Manor."

Hermione swallowed.

"Under Daphne's persuasion, Harry surrendered himself to the Ministry Aurors where he was carted off to the Ministry cell. The rest, is some kind of mystery, since I was not involved in the procedures. They had apparently, summoned some kind of private trial, and Harry Potter had been found guilty, and sentenced to Azkaban for life. Daphne had apparently lost her cool and attacked Albus Dumbledore himself, an event which caused her to be carted off to Azkaban as well."

Hermione was freely crying now.

"Almost six months later, Daphne was killed in an attempt to break out of prison. Somehow Harry came to know about it, and he- I don't know what had happened but the official statement described magic bursting out of his body. He devastated Azkaban. The entire place literally vanished from the earth in less than a minute."

Emma wiped a tear off her cheek. "The Ministry declared him magically-unstable and under the effect of powerful stunners, he was carted off and thrown through the Veil of Death."

"Two years later, the problems began. At first, it was just random killings. Usually purebloods, but importantly, members of the Ministry and the Wizengamot. Initially it was thought as some terrorist organization. I was a senior Hit-wizard then, and we found that this person- who called himself Ragnarok, was the one responsible for the killings. He had no demands, no followers. Just himself and the trail of devastation that he would leave behind him. He destroyed the DMLE, he destroyed the Ministry of Magic, and the ICW."

"Another Voldemort?"

Emma shook her head. "No. Voldemort had an agenda. Ragnarok didn't. He just wanted to watch the world burn. The more we tried to capture him, the more devastation he caused. Some psychopaths followed him, but he didn't care about anyone. No personal history, nothing. It was like he had just dropped off from the sky- with powers the likes of which we had never faced and an animagus form that seemed to be a demon from Hell."

"An animagus?"

"Yes. A behemoth- a fearsome wolf, one which legends describe by the name of Amarok- the hell-hound."

"And?"

"Everything was destroyed. The magical world was in ruins. Albus Dumbledore was nothing, _nothing_ in front of this… Madman. Ragnarok had his eyes on a specific time-travelling artefact, and Dumbledore wanted to keep it off him, and the job landed on me." Emma paused, "—while Dumbledore and the rest of the ICW mages fought off the monster, I tried to destroy the artefact, but at the last minute, I changed my plans and used the device to send me back in time."

"To alter the past?"

Emma nodded.

"But then what happened to the device? Couldn't Rag-"

"I set up an explosive runic matrix to blow up everything, and applied a time-dilation rune to it. The device should have been destroyed ten seconds after my passage back in time."

"Pshew!" Hermione drew a breath. "So what happens now?"

"I don't know." Emma confessed. "Ever since I have come here, I have tried to make sure that Dumbledore doesn't make the same decisions again, sometimes through arguments and when needed, through made-up lies about the future. To be honest, my first intention upon waking up was to find Ronald Weasley and kill him."

"I am… glad that you didn't." Hermione returned slowly.

"I need you to _understand_ , things, Hermione. And then, there is something else." Emma raised her wand towards her younger-self, as Hermione's eyes went wide, "I'm sorry, but this is necessary."

"But-" The rest of the words died in her throat as a white light left Emma's wand and engulfed Hermione completely. She raised her hands to protect herself, but in less than a second, it was all over.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" Hermione bawled out, standing up from the chair and raising her wand defensively. "What did you just do to me?"

"It was a concealment charm. I had to make sure that _someone_ wouldn't be able to _extract_ this discussion from your mind."

"Couldn't you have _explained_ it before?" Hermione asked, outraged.

"I could, but this seemed a lot neater." Emma shrugged. "Now the information is safe, even if something happens to me."

"You are playing a risky gamble." Hermione warned.

"Don't worry. I learnt from the very best." Emma winked.


	17. Chapter 17: Origin

_There was a Time above… A time before everything happened… well, not exactly everything, but you get the idea. There were perfect things, diamond absolutes. But things fall, and often stupidly so, they fall on earth. And what falls… well, it falls, and has indeed Fallen. In my dream, I was close to the Light… guarding it, defending it, loving it._

 _A beautiful lie._

 _Right, and now you are thinking, who am I? Aren't you?_

 _I will just let you figure it out. After all, you are just a figment of my imagination._

 _This is a story of a war—a war between God and… well, God. You see, there isn't a good old Devil coming from beneath the crust and mantle of the earth, splashing out hot, wet lava as he does- unfortunately, every fucking thing just tends to come down from the sky._

 _You bet God is the almighty divine being handing out free chocolates of nirvana and atonement to everyone, don't you? I bet you do. Let me tell you something, and this time, it is a different God. A God who is tribal, one who takes sides—the winning side. You see kid, God cannot be all-good. If he is all-good, he isn't all powerful. If he is all-powerful, he isn't all-good._

 _When I was a kid, my Father, showed me a sculpture. A fight between the angels and the devils. But now I know better! Devils don't come from the depths of hell. No sir, they fall off from the sky. They hurl fucking thunderbolts… innocents die… That fear, that trauma, that rage, that feeling of helplessness. That is exactly what turns good men… cruel._

 _And that is exactly how it all began. This tale isn't a happy one, or a funny one… but it's entertaining as fuck._

 _Well… maybe._

 _A long, long, long time ago… there wasn't a great castle. There wasn't a great magician or a great warrior, defending against hordes of enemy invaders. No kid, this is way too before either of those could have ever happened._

 _This is about the time when Magic roared free, in the sun, in the oceans, in the light, in the earth, and all Humans were born slaves._

 _Slaves, worshippers… all the same. You get the idea. And then, the Great Tribal Almighty took the little slaves, and in hope to see some entertainment, granted them the ability to harvest the raw magic of the universe and bend it to their will. It was almost funny- the little slaves would often rupture and burst, trying to harvest more than their puny little bodies could use. Then, the demigods began taking part in God's great Play and decided to participate as well- you would think that it was some game of exploding snap, only that it was the puny little, pre-evolved versions of witches and wizards exploding and snapping._

 _That's when the problems began._

 _Jormungand, the Great serpent, bowed to the wishes of the freshly minted wizard-kind and gave rise to the serpent-lords, people born with the ability to speak to serpents. Hel, the guardian of the underworld, literally sprouted off the first giants and trolls. The celestial creatures vested on the planet, together with the new generation of sorcerers, gave birth to a new world._

 _The magical world._

 _The only exception to the rule was Amarok, the great wolf and the demigod of destruction, son of Seth- the God of the Underworld. He believed that the humans were mercurial and couldn't be trusted. Eons later, I seem to agree with his judgement. The problem was, I didn't agree with him back then._

 _Amarok, like the stubborn old wolf he was, refused to partake with the humans, and came down to set ablaze, a trail of devastation and destruction- the likes of which had never been seen on the planet, even during the early stages of its creation. A war was waged between the sorcerers and the great wolf, plundering and ravaging the magical world with the flames of Hell._

 _And then, it fell to me. The chief worshipper of Seth- the first of the necromancers, to control his own child and send him back. The task had unsurmountable odds, but when did necromancy deal with easier things? The problem was, only Seth had the ability and the power to stop him, but why would Seth, the God of the Underworld, want to do anything with the mortal dimension?_

 _Well, he would. If he were forced to, that is. Not one of my greatest ideas, I will give you that._

 _My dear old, dead, father used to say, that in times of great distress, a ritual could be performed- a sacrifice, an agreement—take your pick. One which grants the performer the ability to tap into the raw magic of the universe. Legends say that such people always use their powers for unselfish reasons- to fight against the abominable Evil._

 _I'm not so sure if I believe in that fairy tale._

 _Too much power can corrupt anyone, even the purest of the purest soul of mankind, and here we are talking about fucking God-killing power. Power can make even the best of our intentions into a screaming abyss hell-bent on tearing everything in its wake._

 _No, I am not being metaphoric over here. The world was getting devastated, and it would soon lose its existence, until a brave or foolish, take your pick- right, foolish soul took it up upon his shoulders to do the literal deal with the Devil to fight against its own spawn. Told you! Tribal!_

 _They say victories cost something, but loss costs everything. I chose to lose something over everything. The trouble was, the something was my entire existence-and something more._

 _Tell you something? No wand, no stone and no cloak can kill a God. Only a God can kill another God. To kill a God, I had to ascend to the realms of one, and leave back something in my wake._

 _To fight the predator, I became the Hunter. To break the sharp teeth, I became the claws. To kill the Amarok, I became the Grimm._

 _And a nasty one at that._

 _Who won, who lost- does it matter? I mean, really? Amarok was sent down, back into the pits of Hell, and the highway to Hell was blocked away from the fucking trespassers. And me? Locked away, in a dimension far away from existence, with my entire magic, locked away in three completely useless pieces of jewellery._

 _A wand. Would anyone believe if I told them that it was a broken piece of my own staff?_

 _A stone. Fucking hell. That was the stone from my mother's own ring._

 _A cloak. Now that was my own. After all, everyone loves a nice, dark, shabby cloak._

 _Or at least that is what the myth says…_

 _I suppose…_

 _I struggled, I cried, and I went all-the-fucking-way-insane. The protector became the Big bad. The Defender became the ultimate destroyer. The ravager. The punisher. Take your pick._

 _Seth must have sat and clapped. I dealt with him to save my kind, and my kind, my own family dealt with him, to trap me here. The reason- I am fucking dangerous. Of course, I am._

 _Wish Amarok could see me now. No wait, I don't._

 _My magic, my existence, the bonds binding me to this strange dimension… my mind-boggling power, everything. Locked up in some agreement with the cunning fucker you know as Seth, and only an imprint of its magic connected to the Deathly Hallows- perfect names, I will give you that. The items are more hallowed than Seth's own fucking throne. If he loses the deal, I am free, and that will mean a Hell lot of hard work for the Fire-breathing monstrosity._

 _Why such bindings, you might think. Come now, I know you are bloody well thinking on it. Let's put it this way, it is an insurance policy of the Gods. The only fucking chance I have to free myself would be if a descendant of mine is able to reunite the Hallows and wield it. Let's complete ignore if they would like to release someone who was likely enraged enough to destroy dimensions at a moment's notice._

 _The problem was, Seth took away the Deathly Hallows, conning one of the idiots I call my descendants._

 _And then there are the fucking Aldors. A bunch of good-for-nothing morons that just had to have the ability to see glimpses through the machinations of Time and Fate, and the Elder Gods just had to grant them the boon to carry on with this ability for generations to come._

…

… _._

 _.._

 _._

 _What? You thought it was over?_

 _Funny. Very funny. You are quite… a specimen, even if you are a fragment of my imagination._

 _Some descendants down the line, my family segregated- the mighty family split into Two. A Peverell and a Grimm. One who went down the line of butchers, burning with a fetish to grow more and more powerful and rule over the World. I can't help but say that I am bloody proud of them. The other line…? A litter of self-righteous pricks, who decided that protecting the world- taking up the duties that I once held, would be the most prime job to have._

 _Fuckers, I tell you._

 _Wait, now the fun begins. A thousand years later, the world is a human world. Magical human world. And the funny part is, the newly minted litter—who call themselves the necro-fucking-mancers, are tinkering with the bloody Veil of Death. Need anyone remind those rascals that the Veil was the very place through which I cast Amarok out?_

 _I suppose._

 _And then, the fun began. Amarok was loose. Back into the world to ravage and destroy. I sat in my cave and clapped my paws, cheering for the rogue to slice their throats, and end it all._

 _And then, the sanctimonious bastards whom I have to call my descendants came to the battle. Some arsehole by the name of Ignotus Peverell, revered among the kids who called themselves necromancers._

 _They say that he and his brothers were the ones to con Seth and extract the Hallows. I clapped with my paws._

 _Clap Clap Clap! Clap Clap Clap!_

 _As if…_

 _They say that Seth was angry. Kind of obvious, really. They say he arranged situations for the Death of the two brothers, leaving only Ignotus behind in their absence. They say that he fought a fucking great battle, and used a descendant of the mythical serpents of old to restrain the great beast. In the end, Amarok took a pound of my descendant's flesh before He could cast him back through the Veil of Death._

 _Do I even need to explain how many complications that one single thing caused?_

 _Do I?_

 _Well take this. I won't. To hell with the mortal world that shunned its greatest protector. I suppose someday some fool of my line will be able to reunite the Hallows, and this time, also have the power and the utter stupidity to release me from my shackles._

 _And if not, I suppose someday some fool of my blood will reopen the gates and Amarok will be free once again. The bell will ring. It has to._

 _Ding-dong! Ding-dong! Do you hear it ringing in your ears? Does it terrify you? Knowing that he is out there, listening out, waiting for you._

 _And when it does. He will hear it. And he will come. The bell cannot be un-rung! He is hungry. He's found you._

 _. And then He will destroy God's creation…. God himself. If Man won't kill God, then the Devil will do it… The Ancient wolf of destruction, and the blood of my blood…._

 _Born to destroy you all. Your Doomsday._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _And then, God, and his creation is…. as good…._

 _As dead._

 _Do you still wish to know who I am? Bloody fucker._


	18. Chapter 18 : End of Innocence

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know that I do not really answer to reviews nor ask for them ever, but I sincerely want my readers to know that each and every one of their reviews is read and acknowledged. As a fanfic author, reviews are the sole means (apart from PM of course) that tell me where I am going wrong. Also, there are some extremely _exceptional_ intellectuals on the website who think _way too much_ of themselves, as is visible from their reviews, considering that it is me that does the thinking and the typing. Naturally, I dont even bother to dignify their reviews with a comment. Anyway, hopefully everyone is enjoying the story and now it is time to move on with the chapter.**

 **### Also, I know Defiance is taking some time for the next update, but well, i am trying to figure about the future scenes of the story before I begin writing it again. The story has reached a point where many different paths could branch out and I am trying to figure the best possible way. Thank you.**

* * *

 **Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _Theodore smirked. "Nobody does. The Selwyns are…_ _strange._ _Even the darker families like mine and Malfoy, we all keep them at arm's length. I am not sure why, but there is something_ _very, very dangerous_ _about the Selwyns, and Merlin forbid, you find yourself in a position to deal with them. Not as an ally, at least."_

 _"As enemies then?"_

 _Blaise laughed. "Potter, when it comes to the Selwyn family, friends come and go, but enemies_ _accumulate._ _I hear that the Selwyns are always buying newer and newer closets to showcase the heads of those that stood against them."_

 _Harry swallowed._

* * *

With everything that had been going on, it was almost easy to forget that it was OWL year. Thankfully, a single day back at Hogwarts was enough for Harry to be reminded about it. He might have improved leaps and bounds in Defence, which was in a way, a practical combination of charms, transfiguration, spell casting and sometimes, runes too, but his practical approach to training left a lot to be desired on the theoretical side. After all, while a demonstration of power was enough to cow someone, it was not enough to get him an Outstanding OWL. And that had been his aim- score his best in his OWLS in an effort to keep up with his parent's legacy.

Harry and Daphne had returned back to Hogwarts that very evening, along with Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. It had already stirred up a lot of whispers among the students- what with his sudden association with the Slytherins right after his sudden relationship with the illusive Daphne Greengrass. While the Slytherins were sensible enough to stay away- not a big surprise since Harry's little altercation with Malfoy had been an eye-opener for most- the Hufflepuffs weren't that easily swayed and thus, the whisperings continued.

Dumbledore had been instrumental in passing Harry a note, asking him to wait for another _lesson_ at the Room of Requirement the next day, something that kept Harry frowning. After all the… _revelations,_ he wasn't sure what he was supposed to think about Albus Dumbledore anymore. While the man was no monster, he did have his own agenda and was subtly manipulating things to his liking. While the man himself had not killed people, he had stayed silent and allowed someone like Voldemort to rise the first time. However, that did not mean that he would give away his chance to get trained from the man himself.

 _It is just an agreement. He trains me to hone my magic. I fight against Voldemort. A simple agreement._

Besides, what other option did he have anyway? Dumbledore and Voldemort was magically powerful, extremely powerful and Masters of their art. For all his power, he was yet a child, his skill unhoned and his experience too less to actually make a significance. It wouldn't take someone like Dumbledore or Voldemort to measure him up quickly, and then, it was all gone.

The battle would be lost before it even began.

Voldemort would always come for him, that was a given. The monster had it in for him, and he wouldn't let it rest until Harry was dead. Dumbledore… he was complicated, but Harry felt with the Knights' help and with Daphne's prowess at navigating the social circles, he could perhaps put forward a resistance against what the old wizard was trying to achieve. However, that was all for later, and right now, Voldemort was the prime concern, and Dumbledore was his main trump card.

 _The enemy of my enemy is my friend. At least, for the moment._

Perenelle Flamel had rubbed off a similar vibe in him. The formidable sorceress had met him privately the previous day, and the revelations had been rather… _illuminating._

* * *

 **Flashback to the previous day…**

"I don't understand. How can someone's magic be… cursed? I mean, I understand curses on people, and things. But _cursed_ magic?"

Perenelle smiled. "Do you know what an Obscurus is, Potter?"

"Little bit. Someone hates his magic so much that the magic, and the hate personalises into a single, destructive magical cloud like, object that can only cause destruction. Or something like that."

"Elementarily, yes. The magic of an Obscurial is said to become cursed, since the magic can never have any positive or constructive benefit to it. An Obscurus only knows one thing, and that thing is—destruction."

Harry nodded.

"Did you know that Albus Dumbledore sent us a vial of your blood to do some tests? And imagine my husband's surprise when he found out that your blood contained _zero_ Obscurial contamination."

"Excuse me? Why would _my blood_ have Obscurial contamination?"

"An Obscurus is someone who hates his magic. From what you shared, you did not know that Magic existed until you received your letter. For someone tortured by muggles, it is obvious that you must have resented the odd, unexplainable happenings that only happened around you. Look at my face and tell me I have no idea what I'm talking about."

Harry could not. It wasn't something he was proud of. After almost five years in the magical world, he didn't want to confess that there was a time when he resented the reason behind the cause of the odd incidents.

"However," Perenelle mentioned. "For some abstract reason, you did not turn into an Obscurial. I might be able to continue my husband's tests should you consent to giving me your blood. However, we digress. As I have previously mentioned, the Sorcerer' stone could survive annihilation of the planet and yet survive. It could only be something foul, something extremely foul that could have damaged the Stone like it did."

"Like the Obscurus?"

"Precisely."

"You think it was my magic? _Not_ the wraith?"

"I'm sure of it."

"But," Harry tried, "I mean, the stone automatically came to me in my pocket, and I even held it with my own hand. Quirrel wanted to snatch it from me, but my touch burned him away. After that-", Harry's face scrunched as he thought hard- "Voldemort's wraith rose over Quirrel's ashes and blew all over me, causing me to fall down unconscious. The last I remembered, the stone was in my hand when I fell."

"What do you know about the Stone, Potter?"

"It produces the Elixir of life, and it can turn anything into gold." Came the straight forward answer.

Perenelle chuckled. "The Stone is the pinnacle of necromancy and Alchemy, created out of necromantic energies to infuse a single person's lifeblood with trans-dimensional energy and return him to the pinnacle of health. It was the perfect antidote against any poisons, hexes, lacerations or dark curses, except the killing curse. It doesn't make someone immortal. Nicholas had been alive for over six hundred years and he could have died any moment someone hit him with a killing curse."

"Oh."

"For some reason, the energies of the stone reacted in strange ways with your magic, causing it to lose its power after coming in contact with you. Imagine our… shock, when we found the stone, powerless but still intact, in Albus' hand." Perenelle paused for a moment. "I admit I have never quite been able to tame my temper much, so I will confess that my initial reaction was to find the culprit and make him pay."

She cast him a strange look.

Harry swallowed.

"I have never liked that man, as is obvious given the Knights of Walpurgis work against his policies at the Wizengamot. However, my husband was overly fond of him, and look where that got him. He had so many brilliant ideas that he wanted to test, but all of those shall remain unexplored."

Perenelle paused.

"Nicholas passed away five days ago, and I was in mourning, when you had that unfortunate meeting with me. I confess that I let my anger get the better of me back then. I apologise for that."

"It's alright." Harry returned, not really sure if he was indeed alright with it in the first place.

"You should never have had to fight that battle. Nevertheless, I am glad that you demonstrated your potential in the fight and no member shall ever challenge your right."

Harry did not know what to say.

"Do you have any questions, Potter?"

"Uh, yes. Why did you… you know, send the stone to Hogwarts in the first place?"

Perenelle frowned. "It was part of my dear departed husband's Gryffindorish nature, I suspect. That particular Stone could only work for him, and no one else. However, we never bothered to correct the myth about the Stone, since it did have the ability to transform any metal into Gold. He and that Dumbledore believed that between the special wards and the Mirror, the stone could be a good trap for Voldemort's wraith. We never considered the intervention of someone like… well, you."

"There weren't any special wards, or at least- not something that I could tell anyway." Harry retorted.

"Such arrogance does not suit you, Potter. Are you an authority of wards or magical sensing? Do you mean to say that you were able to completely understand the workings of intertwined intent-based wards back then?"

Harry bit his tongue. The formidable woman had a point.

"For all his flaws, Albus Dumbledore is no monster, Potter. While I freely admit that I _dislike_ the man, he was a good friend and student to Nicholas. He has his faults, true- and I oppose him, but it is also true to that Albus Dumbledore does want Tom Riddle gone for good."

"Evidence suggests otherwise." Harry muttered.

Perenelle smirked. "For every evidence, there is also an alternate explanation, and sometimes the explanation is widely different from what you might think it is. Keep your eyes open, Harry Potter."

He stayed silent for a moment before he looked up at her. "Couldn't He have… you know, created another stone?"

"No."

Harry winced at the direct and cold reply.

"You will receive an invitation from the Knights for your ritual ceremony, an event which will, be held in time. Till then, you can count the Knights as your ally, unless you want our support in something against our own principles."

Harry nodded. "I understand."

"Very well," Perenelle got up from the chair, "—if that might be all, I suppose you should be returning back to Hogwarts." She walked towards the door and opened it wide, before turning back at him once. "You might be innocent, young Harry Potter, but you puzzle me, and my experience of five hundred years tells me this… _there is something in you, that forbids me from trusting you. And I will find the answer. After all, I have a particular proclivity when it comes to disliking…. Riddles."_

 **End of Flashback**

* * *

After dinner, Harry was back to the Room of Requirement, and found Albus Dumbledore waiting for him inside.

"Ah, Harry, I hope your _family business_ went well?" Dumbledore asked cheerfully. It felt slightly uncomfortable, knowing what he did, but Harry suppressed his emotions and nodded slightly.

"While I don't really have any say in _your_ personal associations, I have found your recent… associations to be rather intriguing, my boy. First Miss Greengrass, and now Misters Nott and Zabini. You seem to be moving in very, _intriguing_ circles."

Harry just shrugged. "I am making new friends, Headmaster."

"Are you sure that it would not provide a security leak? I mean, Tiberius Nott was an inner-circle Death eater, and still is."

"Theodore is not his father, Professor." That was all Harry had to say, before he walked up to the old wizard.

"Very well, let us begin your training. Have you succeeded in pushing yourself any further than… fifty-five seconds, was it?"

"No." Harry answered, scowling a little. "It was a rather… _frustrating_ discovery to find out that my _mentor_ had tricked me. The dummies were charmed to go faster and faster with every passing second. Imagine my surprise when I could defend off for six minutes against a freshly transfigured dummy set easily."

Dumbledore looked fleetingly like a small child caught in wrongdoing. "You are right. I did that on purpose, in an attempt to see how far you could push yourself."

"Push myself? It was an _unwinnable_ situation." Harry retorted.

"Correct. I wanted to see how long it would take for you to _break._ "

"Excuse me?"

"This is a battle, and there will be a time when you face un unwinnable situation. I needed to know what you did in such a situation."

"And?"

"You passed."

Harry didn't dignify his answer with a comment.

"Now," Dumbledore clapped, almost excitedly, "-it is time that we progress to the next part of your training. Let me warn you, this requires a lot of power and not everyone can do this. If it wasn't clear, the training regimen that you are going through has been uniquely fashioned for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

For a moment, Albus Dumbledore looked his age. "The war is coming, Harry, and I know better than saying that you will be in the front of it all. That said, I completely understand and accept the fact that no amount of training could prepare you for the challenge that will ultimately be Voldemort. He is too deep into the forbidden arts for you to match him. However, there was two ways of winning a fight- by hook, and by crook. I have my expectations on the latter."

"You think I will be able to trick Voldemort and win?" Harry asked, surprised at the amount of confidence _Albus Dumbledore_ was displaying in his abilities.

"I _believe_ that with the right training and your resourcefulness, you will be able to play on Voldemort's weaknesses and yes, be able to defeat him. Of course, I will be helping as much as possible."

"Why don't you yourself… you know, _fight_ him?" Harry ventured, if only to want to check how the old man would react to him.

"I am not strong enough." The old man replied simply.

"So am I." Harry countered.

"You are- you just do not know how to use it yet. I can fight him off to a standstill, but he would eventually win. I am old, and I don't have the power or the strength that I once had in my youth."

 _Is that why, you have decided to use manipulation instead of magical strength?_

"We are digressing from the point. It is time to begin your training. This technique, that I am going to teach you, is a part of the Illusory Arts- a forbidden art of magic."

 _Albus Dumbledore is teaching me forbidden magic? This is… surreal._

"Yes, I know it is quite hypocritical of me to try to deviate you away from the Dark Arts while teaching you _forbidden magic_ myself, but this is _necessary."_

"What is this... illusory art?"

"Illusions are one of the more… mystical forms of magic that has had been conscripted as _dangerous_ for wizards and witches to learn, although it is has nothing more dangerous than… say, apparation. However, it has been banned for… reasons. For one thing, not everyone can learn it, only those with gifted minds. _You have a gifted mind."_

"What does that mean?"

"The Illusory Arts enable the caster to create copies of himself—illusions mainly, although they aren't merely a trick. An illusionist can actually share his magical power between himself and his copies, and in doing so- can change the tide of the battle in his favour. One moment, he is fighting alone. The next moment, he isn't. Also, illusions are a good way of defending oneself and getting out of situations should the need arise and you are on warded property."

"I… understand."

"It takes a lot of power, and supreme concentration to even cast basic illusions, and thus, Occlumency is a vital point in learning the Arts of Illusions."

Harry nodded.

"With your rapid, and silent apparation skills, along with this ability, should you manage to learn it, it could give you an edge in a fight with the likes of say… Lucius Malfoy or Bellatrix Lestrange, though you will need a lot of experience even before I can consider you ready to even try facing one of them in battle."

"Is Lucius Malfoy… that powerful?" Harry asked. Knowing Draco as he did, he hadn't really pegged Lucius Malfoy as that powerful. The fact that Dobby had wiped the floor with him in second year had done no services either.

"Lucius Malfoy is a Master of Earth Magic. The Malfoys are rumoured to have risen from the druids of old, not unlike the Longbottoms themselves. While he might not be extraordinarily powerful, he has enough cunning and skill in him to change the tables in a battle at any given moment. To give you an approximation, your father and Sirius faced him and Rabastan Lestrange over eight times, and every time it ended in a draw. While Lestrange is no slouch, but he wasn't as skilled as Malfoy was."

Harry took everything in a stride. There was so much he did not know. One thing was certain- it was always going to be an uphill battle for him.

 _Damn._

* * *

Two hours later, an extremely tired Harry Potter treaded his way out of the Room of Requirement. As always, Albus Dumbledore was right- illusions were tiring, and extremely so, one single attempt to cast an illusion was like apparating constantly for a minute, at least that was what it did for the first hour. It was a real difficulty to be able to cast his own first doppelganger, and make him look real at the same time. It was so different than anything else he had ever done previously. There was no spell to be cast, no wand movements and no wand to hold.

 _This is the true versatility of magic, and both Dumbledore and Voldemort have it in spades._

Harry wondered, with what he now knew, how in the seven hells had he managed to survive from Voldemort so long. He could only think it to be insane amount of luck, and it worried him that sooner or later, he was going to run out of luck, and when that happens, he would have to be prepared.

 _I cannot keep running from him all my life._

He slowly treaded towards the Gryffindor dormitory, wanting to finally land down on his four-poster bed, knowing very well that unlike previously, Daphne was well protected now. While she was no slouch herself, she had Nott and Zabini on her side, and well, if she needed his help, she would be able to contact him instantly anyway.

* * *

"Harry?"

"Harry?"

He woke up bleary-eyed, still exhausted by the gruelling training and now this interruption. For one moment, he pulled back and tried to sleep.

"Harry, wake up!"

It was Hermione's voice. That shook him up. He rubbed his eyes, and peered at her. "Hermione- what are you doing here?"

Hermione looked completely…. _Was she crying?_ The unfamiliar emotion on her face shook him off completely as he sat up. "Hermione-"

Said girl was standing in front of him, her eyes wet and filled with a strange sense of… desperation in them.

"Hermione, what happened-"

"Hagrid- he—you come with me!" Hermione pulled away and ran outside the room, as Harry quickly put on his wand holster and ran swiftly behind.

The Gryffindor common room was still lit up, and he could see the Weasleys all awake and dressed. They all looked morose, for some reason. Fearing the worst, Harry strode up to the twins and asked, "What happened? Where is Hagrid?"

"He—Dumbledore found his body fallen down in front of the main door. Hagrid—he- he's dead!" Fred Weasley answered, the shock of the event having gotten too him.

 _What?_

"That's can't be true." Harry retorted. It couldn't be. Hagrid—the ever gentle giant—he couldn't- die- "Where is he? Where?" He asked desperately.

"The Great Hall." Hermione answered. "Mcgonagall wouldn't-"

But Harry wasn't there. He had already darted his way past the Fat Lady by then.

* * *

 _Not Hagrid—It can't be Hagrid!_

" _ **Anyway — Harry, a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."**_

 _Hagrid…_

" _ **Well, some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion. Nope, I reckon he's still out there, too tired to carry on. But one thing's certain, something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous, Harry, that's why everybody knows your name. You're the boy who lived."**_

Old memories washed over him again and again, as his legs carried him downstairs almost as if they had a mind of their own. His entrance into the magical world had been with the gentle giant, and to know that he was….

" _ **I'd just like to say that, if it hadn't been for you Harry, and Ron and Hermione of course, I would... I'd still be You-Know-Where. So I'd just like to say thanks."**_

 _ **There won't be a Hogwarts without you, Hagrid.**_

Harry frantically reached down to the Great Hall. Down on the ground, enshrouded in a white cloth, was the body of his first friend, the first person he remembered who told him that he was magical, that he was not….

He slowly pulled the white shroud off the half-giant's body. Hagrid's hair was matted with congealed blood, and his left eye had been reduced to a puffy slit amid a mass of purple-and-black bruises. A huge crack was present all over the man's neck and was now blackened with some kind of dark liquid - blood he realized- over it. Someone had hit him with powerful severing curses and killed him.

White, hot rage bubbled through his body, as a silvery aura rose above him, flickering frighteningly all around him as he held the corpse of his first friend. His eyes turned watery as the pain swelled inside him. For a moment, it seemed the rage would consume him completely…

"Harry…"

The unmistakable voice of Albus Dumbledore shook him up from his rage, as he slowly lifted his eyes to stare at the old man.

"Who- did- this?"

"Harry- Harry you should-"

" _Who did this?"_ His voice edged on Parseltongue, his innate magic lining his voice as he spoke.

"Death eaters." Mcgonagall answered from the other side. She was sitting silently on a chair on the other side of the Hall, mourning for the loss of a dear departed colleague. He could see the other professors, even Severus Snape- sitting near the staff table, none saying a word.

"Harry- Hagrid was sent as an envoy to the giants. He and Olympe Maxime were sent to the giants to ask them to stay neutral in the fight." Dumbledore answered in a shaken voice. Clearly the man didn't see this coming.

"What—happened to her?" Harry asked, feeling as if his throat was clutched tightly.

"She's in Saint Mungo's right now." Mcgonagall answered, "—and she isn't doing that well."

"Why was he attacked then? Why didn't you send someone with them?" Harry asked coldly, shivering in anger.

"I- I sent them with Gubraithian Fire, as a gift for the giants and try to convince them to stay neutral in the war, but I suppose… Tom's men were faster than I thought they would be."

"Potter—I need you to go upstairs. We will take care of this from here." Mcgonagall tried, as Harry just sat down, shaking audibly with rage coursing through his veins.

"Who was it? Who was it that did this to him?"

The Headmaster bent and touched him on his shoulders. "Harry- we will talk about this tomorrow morn-"

" _WHO DID THIS?"_

"Walden Macnair and Thaddeus Yaxley." It was not Dumbledore who answered, but Severus Snape that answered him, who was walking towards him from the staff table.

Harry spun around, as he stood up, facing Severus Snape face-to-face. "Did you know-did you know that this was about to happen?" He looked at the other man in the eye, as if daring to try legilimize him. Strangely, Snape did not take up on the offer.

"I knew that they had been sent as envoys to the giants. Yes. That they would find Hagrid? Yes. That they would kill him? It was a chance, though not overtly so."

That was all Harry needed to hear. He strangled Snape by his collar and held him close. "Then WHY didn't you do anything? Why didn't you-"

"Do what? Blow my cover to try to save Hagrid? This is a war, Potter." Snape gushed, trying to breathe despite Harry's stronghold. For some reason, the man did not seem to try to defend himself. "Unlike what you might think, the war has more to it than just you and your parents. Everyone lost someone in the war. Hagrid knew the costs and still took the chance, because it was crucial." He coughed.

"Harry- let him down." Dumbledore spoke, although his voice was slightly stern.

Harry let the man go, who stepped back and adjusted his collar- "This is war, Potter, and no matter whether you like it or not—it will have casualties. Hagrid is simply the first of many."

His knees wobbled, as Harry felt himself fall down on his knees, as he saw the corpse of his first friend in the magical world lying down in front of him.

" _You will pay for this, Tom Riddle. You will bleed by my hand. You will."_

* * *

Albus Dumbledore watched the sudden shade of dense black aura spiked out amidst the silver for a moment, as he narrowed his eyes. All the decades he had spent studying about occult magics, and never in his entire life had he ever witnessed such a phenomenon. He knew that _aura_ was something unique to a particular person, and it gave away a lot about the character of the person. If a person shifted towards the Dark, his aura would change too, but it would do so along a smooth gradient, with time. The sudden, momentary colour change was… _unknown, and unheard of._ He would have to look into it. It seemed that he should be ready to expect the unexpected when it came to Harry Potter.

 _All my life I have fought relentlessly to supress the Dark Arts and the Evil that lurks inside them. Why do I feel as if my own actions will someday overthrow all my life's work in a single moment? First the killing curse, then the horcrux, then the stone, and now this…._

 _What are you, Harry Potter?_


	19. Chapter 19 : Prophecy

**Previously on Ragnarok…**

 _"Harry- let him down." Dumbledore spoke, although his voice was slightly stern._

 _Harry let the man go, who stepped back and adjusted his collar- "This is war, Potter, and no matter whether you like it or not—it will have casualties. Hagrid is simply the first of many."_

 _His knees wobbled, as Harry felt himself fall down on his knees, as he saw the corpse of his first friend in the magical world lying down in front of him._

 _"_ _You will pay for this, Tom Riddle. You will bleed by my hand. You will."_

* * *

"Harry, I'm so, so sorry about what you might be going through, but you have to understand."

The rage bubbling inside his head at the loss of his beloved friend suddenly turned cold, and drove inwards- he felt his Occlumency shields buckle and send warning signals in protest, but it was to no avail. The righteous anger that had once flooded his mind was now replaced by a cold blizzard of vengeance.

" _This…. is all your fault."_ Harry replied finally, his voice bordering on Parseltongue as he spoke. His aura flickered dangerously, a black shade twisting into his silver- as he slowly looked up from the mutilated body laid in front of him, into the deep, blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. For reasons inexplicable, Albus Dumbledore stepped back.

"Harry…."

"This is your fault, Albus Dumbledore. Don't try to deny it." Harry refuted back before the Headmaster could even try to explain his stance. "You did not raise a finger when the restrictions on magical creatures were brought into action. You kept silent when the giants were hunted and restricted. You are just as responsible as Fudge or any of the bigots there at the Wizengamot, and now my friend is _dead_ because of you and your selfish reasons."

"Potter," Snape barked, "-control yourself. Is that how pathetic your Occlumency has become?"

Harry slowly turned his head and stared at the Potions Master, who recognized the look Harry had in his face. It was the cold, emotionless look that the Dark Lord always had before he was about to kill someone in cold blood. The discussion about the innate magical connection between Potter and the Dark Lord- the one that he had sat discussing for days with the Headmaster the previous year, now came to mind. He glanced quickly at the Headmaster and then back at Potter.

"Potter, you have to control your emotions. You have to control-"

"I am _in_ control. Professor Snape. Had I not, things would have been different by now." Harry answered coldly. Turning towards Dumbledore, he stood up. "Tell us, Headmaster. Tell us the truth about what you did, and your reasons behind them. Tell us all about the _muggleborn commission._ "

Albus Dumbledore blanched for a moment, before controlling himself. The sudden psychological attack had caught him off-guard. "How… do you know that?"

"I have my ways." Harry tilted his head over his shoulders, preening at him.

Albus Dumbledore considered the situation. While he had been grief-stricken at the death of Hagrid-the little man who was almost like a son to him- the lack of anger on the boy's part was more alarming, more so considering that he was being taught Occlumency. Like a double-edged sword, Occlumency had the potential to bestow great powers to a person, and should misfortune strike one- turn them into an emotionless husk, a sociopath. Deep inside his heart, he always had a lurking suspicion that perhaps it was the natural affinity for Occlumency that had somehow propelled young Tom Riddle to the paths that led to the creation of Lord Voldemort. Now again, there was another, a boy who had, coincidentally lived a similar upbringing, swaying down the same path.

 _I have to get him out of the vicious loop._

"Tell me, Albus Dumbledore, why I am behaving like this? What is it that I know, and why you want to keep it all a secret?"

 _This was not how I expected it to unfold. I should have seen it coming when Harry was spotted with the Zabini boy. Clearly, Serena Zabini had… oh Merlin, what has she done?_

"Headmaster, what is he talking about?" Snape asked. Even Mcgonagall was looking inquisitive.

"I'm afraid it is classified information. One which I cannot divulge in public in such fashion." The Headmaster replied with whatever dignity he had left. His eyes turned towards Harry- the black sliver in the boy's silver aura attracting his attention…. "Perhaps you would accompany me to my office?"

Harry Potter, it seemed, had other plans.

"It's classified because you do not want the world to know about the heinous crimes you have committed, do you, Albus Dumbledore?" Harry sneered. Professor Watson had also come down by now, and was standing behind Snape.

 _The boy is going to be difficult._

"I'm not what you are accusing me to be, Harry." Albus replied sternly. "I know how it must appear to _you_ , but there were reasons behind why I did. what I did." Albus defended.

"Voldemort also had reasons when I started the attack that ultimately led to my parent's deaths." Came the frosty reply.

 _The nerve of that boy! Then again, I have done little to help matters anyway._

"Headmaster." Professor Watson intervened, her voice lined with a tone of warning. "Secrets are not worth more than lives. I believe we have had this discussion previously."

 _Should have known that Miss Granger would team up with her best friend._

Snape turned towards the DADA professor in surprise, realizing that the Headmaster had kept him out of, what was possibly another of his private ploys. Albus had always digressed, whenever any questions regarding the DADA professor rose between them during their meetings.

"All right," Albus ceded, "I will, but in my office." He turned towards Harry, who looked coldly at him, "-if you will, please accompany us to my office. Minerva-" He glanced at the Transfiguration Professor- "please maintain all decorum until I am back."

Minerva Mcgonagall looked aback at the surprising command. She nodded quietly, inwardly wondering what mess had the old man created this time.

* * *

 **Sometime later…**

"I am waiting."

Dumbledore frowned at Harry's tone, but this was no time to chide the boy for behaving how he did, considering that there were more pressing matters at hand.

"What do you know about the Commission, Harry?" he tried, fishing for information. The technique worked well, most of the time anyway. The boy was nowhere ready to get all the information in his hands without any preparation.

"Enough." Harry sneered. "Now-"

"Control yourself, Potter." Snape barked. For some reason, the action seemed to have quietened Harry who just glared at the old man. Emma was just sitting down on a chair, waiting for the Headmaster to begin.

"It is essential I know what you know about it, Harry." Dumbledore pressed.

"Very well," Harry returned coldly, "-what do you want to know? About how you stole the inheritances from young, unassuming children to gain power and control the Wizengamot?"

 _Ah. Very subtly played. Telling him about the events. Now only if I could explain my reasoning-_

"Ah. Very well, I assume you got your information from the Zabini's."

"Yes." Harry answered. There was no reason to even lie about it.

Dumbledore stood up from his chair, and walked towards the bookshelf. "My mother… Kendra Ornith, was the last of a long line that descended from the ancient family of Aldor, a line whose existence predated the Wizengamot. The Trelawneys are also a brother line to the Orniths. Before she died, she passed a message to me—something that had been passed down the Aldor line ever since it was born." He paused, "-a prophecy. One that spells the end of the wizarding world, as we know it."

"Does that mean-" Snape was now struggling to accept what he had just figured out from the old man's words- "that the Dark Lord will win?"

"This isn't about the Dark Lord." Emma answered, "isn't it?"

Not for the first time, Snape felt a discomfort writhing through his mind. On several occasions, it had bugged him- Emma Watson knew way too much about the ongoing events- for a person with zero past history to have such knowledge made Severus keep a distance from the woman. Luckily enough, even Dumbledore had asked the same of him- not that the woman tried any approach to converse with him in person.

"I'm afraid not." Dumbledore answered. "It is something much more terrible."

Snape muttered a soft expletive under his breath. "Go on."

"According to what has been passed on, there was once a great war, thousands of years before the Wizengamot was even born- when the Lord's gathering was the supreme head of the magical world- there was some kind of cosmic incident and a magical being had entered our world from the Dimension of Death itself. A being, one who is revered in ancient history and mythology as the son of Seth and the guardian of the underworld- a mythical wolf named Amarok."

Emma could see where it was going.

"The being was unstoppable and went on to bring about a massacre that killed thousands of sorcerers, until Atticus Slytherin, the then Lord of Slytherin and Ignotus Peverell, the then Lord of House,"—Dumbledore glanced at Harry sideward-" _Peverell_ -"

 _Just as expected!_

Harry's eyes dilated instantaneously at the mention of the Peverell name. Hadn't the Peverells been the founders of the Knights of Walpurgis? That single reaction was enough for the old man, who continued-"-defeated and locked the beast away in some other dimension. However, before such a thing could have happened, the wolf had somehow latched itself to the very essence of the raw magic prevailing in our world, as a failsafe to keep on surviving, and feeding on magic despite being imprisoned in the eternal prison into which _Ignotus Peverell_ had thrown him."

Dumbledore paused. "It was soon after that, that one of the Aldors made a prophecy…" He lifted a thick tome from the shelf and dropped the heavy thing on the table, opening it and turning over to the page he wanted them all to see. It was written in some kind of runic language, but as Dumbledore muttered a translation charm, they changed into words Harry had never seen before.

 _ **"**_ _ **When the great wolf howls in fury, it is time for the descent of the Dark God…**_

 _ **The venom that bound him, would release him to run amok…**_

 _ **The Midgard serpent shall swerve and strike,**_

 _ **As the realm of the Gods falls before Ragnarok…"**_

"The Dark… God." Harry spoke at last, his eyes devouring the text as he read it again and again, trying to make more sense out of it. "Like a Dark Lord?" Even his anger had receded somewhat in light of the recent discoveries.

"My ancestors have derived explanations and theories to account for it, and so have I. There is one thing that is certain and that is that it is certainly not talking about a _Dark Lord_." Dumbledore returned.

"How is this connected to-?"

"I'm coming to that." Albus replied, shutting him up. "I have lived a long, and fruitful life, Harry—and during all my time, I have met many gifted seers and magical shamans, asking them to shed more light to this prophecy, but all I could get was no different from what I initially believed." He took a breath. "Sometime in the future, the _Dark God_ shall arrive and destroy all of wizardkind as we know it."

"What is this… _Ragnarok?"_ Snape asked curiously, eyeing the page once again.

"The term in magical myths, refers to an event leading to the _Death of the Gods._ " Dumbledore explained in a professor-like tone. "However, I have certain… assurances that Ragnarok in fact, is an entity and _not_ an event."

"This is something about Gods." Harry snapped. "How is it related to-"

"Harry, I understand that you are grieving over Hagrid's demise, and that it had affected you deeply. That said, do not think of this as some half-baked story told to digress away from the questions you have asked. While I personally think that it is not time yet for you to know it- your erratic, for the lack of a better word- movements have led me to tip my hand into the matter."

"Considering what the sorcerers of old could do, they could very well be referred to as Gods." Emma spoke slowly, "I mean- everyone considers the Hogwarts Founders as some sort of demigods anyway."

"Precisely." Albus supplied. "And with due reason, it refers to the end of the wizards, or the wizarding world."

"In the hands of a wolf?" Snape asked brazenly. "How can you be so… sure?"

"We will get back to that, later." Albus evaded the question. "As the one carrying my mother's secret and the duty of her lineage, I did the best I could to reduce the possibility of a… _Dark God."_

He took a deep breath. "I have always believed that there is nothing impossible for a man to achieve should he want it. I had played with the idea that there must be some wizard, stepped so deeply in the Dark Arts, that he had risen to powers beyond the reach of any mortal. As you well know, Lord Voldemort is proof of that statement, that with the necessary conviction, one could even cheat Death."

"The ban on Dark Magic." Harry muttered to himself, remembering the discussion he had had with the Zabini's.

"Yes." Albus nodded gravely. "In my foolishness and my sudden grandstanding after my victory over Grindelwald, I thought that if I could ban practice of the forbidden arts and confiscate the most dangerous books on magic, it could… statistically, reduce the chances of another _Dark Lord_ rising, and certainly, prevent someone from attaining a _God_ status."

"Then how did…the Dark Lord gain access to the forbidden magics that he wields so freely?" Snape asked sceptically. "The ban on Dark Magic was passed in 1950. All families except the original Dark Alliance had agreed to part with any magical tome that could be classified beyond Alpha-Grey."

Harry and Emma both glanced at him in surprise.

"I had History of Magic as one of my NEWTS." Snape muttered, scowling.

Harry shook his head blankly. Now that he thought on it, he had been given information about what had conspired back then. He had no idea about the reasoning behind the events. In a round-about way, he had simply listened to one end without checking with the other- just like he had all those years ago on entering the wizarding world.

 _I'm back to square one, once again. First year it was Ron versus Draco, and now Zabini versus Dumbledore._

Dumbledore was speaking again. "To be honest, I have no idea. Tom Riddle vanished away for more than a decade after he quit working for Borgin and Burkes in 1958. I did try to look into his history, but found nothing. It was almost as if he… disappeared from the earth. Wherever Tom found the means to dive deep into the forbidden arts, it was not in Wizarding Britain."

Harry's eyes widened, as he looked down onto the table. _The Knights of Walpurgis. Tom was inducted by my great-grandfather then. That could mean that everything he knows was learnt from…._

 _Shit!_

"Harry?" Dumbledore's eyes turned towards the young man who seemed to be in some kind of discomfort. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Harry gritted his teeth.

"Right," Dumbledore returned, frowning inwardly at the boy's behaviour, "—and that brings us to the main point- the muggleborn commission."

Harry nodded slowly.

"The _commission_ was a move that I enacted for the Greater good of the greatest number- a principle I have always believed in. I know why you might feel… betrayed, but I can swear that I did it only to keep potential Dark Magic out of the hands of the wizarding populace." He paused. "The commission was initially created as a side-project under the discretion of the Department of Mysteries with my support- to find out if the muggleborn population were the descendants of squibs from magical families, and the results were fascinating indeed."

Emma looked at Dumbledore in surprise.

"It was found that every single muggleborn was indeed, born out of squib branch of some magical family, and in some situations, of families that had been declared extinct by the Ministry of Magic."

" _Every single one?"_ Emma emphasized.

"Every single one." Dumbledore answered, staring back at the woman who looked at him with something like anger.

"The results would cause immense turbulence in the wizarding society. The DOM feared, and I agreed with them, that if the results were declared publicly, it could cause chaos. The Dark Alliance could twist everything to suit their own… sinister purposes, while the general Pureblood community would never allow the knowledge to be passed on to the muggleborn candidates. They feared that the muggleborn, on finding power, would topple the existing system- not that they could be blamed, considering the amount of bigotry against them."

No one said a single word.

"It would be chaotic- not something we all needed when the world was only trying to get back to running in the aftermath of the Magical War against Grindelwald. So I did what I decided would be best for everyone. I took the commission and put it under the discretionary wing of the Chief Warlock."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Before I could come up with an acceptable solution, the wizarding world found itself within another political mess- with the new Pureblood Propaganda rising as a new political party, headed by the Lord Gaunt, also known to everyone as the Lord Voldemort. I tried to reason with him, and there were even some… occasions, when I met Riddle personally in an attempt to come to a mutual agreement over the issue. However, as I have repeatedly learnt from life- ambitious people do not share power."

"What about the muggleborn inheritances?" Snape asked. Harry could understand, knowing very well that Snape was the last of the Prince family.

Dumbledore looked fleetingly like a little child caught in wrong-doing. "I became selfish. I thought to use them to promote my own fight against the Dark. I checked through the list of candidates, and sorted amongst them- bringing them up to their heritage, once I was sure that he or she did not have any bigotry or destructive tendencies."

"A pawn." Harry answered.

"I wouldn't use that word, but in a way, yes. It was only for the Greater good of the people."

"You mean, that I could have had the Prince inheritance, but I couldn't, because _you_ hid it from me?" Snape muttered angrily. Harry was surprised to see the professor lose control over his emotions for the first time. It was… strange.

"Yes." Dumbledore answered sadly. "You had an association with… Mulciber and Avery, and as much as I am proud to have known someone like you, things were very much different twenty years ago."

"You… you sanctimonious bastard," Snape snarled. "The sole reason why I joined the Dark Lord in the first place was because he promised the Prince inheritance to me after he conquered Magical Britain. An inheritance, which was mine by all rights, except that it was you who forcibly kept it away from me." He was fairly shouting at the end. "If I hadn't joined the Dark Lord, I wouldn't have had-"

"SEVERUS!" Dumbledore yelled. "Control yourself. I know you are angry, rightfully so, but control yourself."

Severus went quiet. "This is not over." He sneered.

"I'm afraid not." Dumbledore sighed. For once, he looked his age- as if the burdens of the world had finally got to him- "I understand if you hate me for what happened, but I'm a man, not a God-"

"Then don't try to be one." Emma snapped.

Everyone looked at her in surprise. "You know very well the reason behind my anger, Albus Dumbledore. You took it upon yourself to decide the fates of the muggleborn re-entering into the world that was rightfully theirs. Lives could have been a lot different had you just-"

"Just what? Allowed the facts to go public?" Albus Dumbledore sneered. Harry had to agree, it looked very odd on his face.

"And to what end would that have served?" Albus continued. "Do you think that the Wizengamot, which is essentially a pureblood fraternity, would allow the muggleborns, who had absolutely no idea about their traditions and their ways- to come and take over the world that had been theirs since time immemorial?" He sneered again. "I'm telling you what would have happened. A new law would be formed, scraping the results of the commission away from the general populace, and have it classified as a state secret. Also, it would increase the irrational fear they already have about the muggleborn, fearing that they would come to power and destroy centuries of traditions, adopting muggle practices in its stead."

Harry wasn't sure he would want that to happen. Then again, his own reason was biased because of his experience with the Dursleys. As strange as it was, he could see the point the old man was trying to make.

"I did what I could- a middle path of sorts. I took the commission under my own wing, and chose selective candidates to introduce them to their heritage, slowly and carefully, making sure that they wouldn't attract too much attention. I know it wasn't right but I did what I thought would be best." Dumbledore answered.

"Is that why Lily Evans remained a secret forever?" Harry asked coldly.

Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. A muggleborn Gryffindor, as the heiress of Slytherin, would have a detrimental effect to the political atmosphere."

"WHAT?" Emma and Severus uttered loudly in unison.

"Lily…. Lily was the heiress of-"

"Slytherin." Harry spoke solemnly. Turning towards Snape, he stated. "The Hat even chose Slytherin for me. I chose Gryffindor instead, because I didn't want to spend five years with the ponce."

Snape looked like he was about to faint.

"What about Hermione?" Harry asked. Emma instantly glanced at him, her expression filled with surprise. "Why didn't you tell her about her inheritance?"

"Inheritance?" Emma almost gasped.

"The House of Dagworth-Granger." Harry answered, missing the look of shock that flitted across her face.

"Miss Granger… is a possibility. I would have perhaps, discussed her heritage with her after she would have completed her NEWTS and would be able to undertake the inheritance ceremony, lest anything happened to puncture the event."

"I… understand." Emma answered. Harry narrowed his eyes at her reaction.

 _Strange._

"Have I satiated your need for answers, Harry? I assure you I have all the time to sit and answer if need be. The wizarding world doesn't need us to be fragmented, especially now." Dumbledore answered.

"Just one. If you are so much against Dark magic, why did you allow me to study it?" Harry asked.

"Because…" Albus hesitated, "—because it is essential that you survive. That you grow powerful enough to put an end to the problem that will ultimately be Voldemort."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why? Why must it be me? Why not, someone from the International Wizard Council?"

"Lord Voldemort is obsessed with killing you, Harry. He will come for you and-"

"I know that," Harry stressed, "my question is… why? Why is he so obsessed with me? Why did he come to kill me when I was a baby?"

"Professor," Emma replied slowly, "—you will need to answer it. There is no reason to delay it any longer."

Dumbledore sighed, before he walked back to his seat. "Before you were born, there was an event—a prophecy about someone born with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord-"

"A… prophecy? About me? Voldemort wanted to kill me because of a prophecy?"

"You can tell that again." Emma muttered inwardly. Snape however, was surprisingly quiet.

"As unfortunate as it is, it is true. Lord Voldemort believes in the Prophecy, and with due reason. Whether for good or not, you are indeed born with a power capable enough of destroying the Dark Lord, and he will keep on coming back to you no matter what you do." Dumbledore replied sadly.

A long lost memory came to Harry, almost like something from a half-remembered dream. Something that Hagrid had said to him during his first trip to Diagon Alley.

" _ **That ain't no ordinary cut on your forehead. A mark like that only comes from being touched by a curse, and an evil curse at that."**_

" _ **What happened to Vol- to You-Know-Who?"**_

" _ **Well, some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion. Nope, I reckon he's still out there, too tired to carry on. But one thing's certain, something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous, Harry, that's why everybody knows your name. You're the boy who lived."**_

 _Tom Riddle will keep murdering my loved ones, if only to get to me. He would just not stop until it was either me or him. No matter what the Prophecy said, it was of no consequence really. No matter if he wanted to fight or not, no matter- it would always come down to him or the Dark Lord._

"Who else knows about this… Prophecy?"

"For the moment, just me." Dumbledore answered.

"And where is this… Prophecy?" Harry asked slowly.

Dumbledore considered his question for a moment. "There is a prophecy orb in the Department of Mysteries, held under the strongest magical charms intended to keep it away from unwanted seekers."

"And Voldemort wants this… prophecy orb, I assume?"

"Yes."

An epiphany came to Harry as Dumbledore said those words. So, the thing that the Or- they are trying to guard is this… Prophecy orb, and… me? So…"

A thought came to him…. Something that Remus Lupin had once told him…

" _ **We are guarding something… Something that You-know-who wants. Something that he didn't have the last time. A weapon of sorts…"**_

"A… weapon." Harry muttered audibly, his tone emotionless.

"What?" It attracted Dumbledore's attention. Snape however, was deathly silent, observing Potter's reaction the entire time.

"I am the weapon, ain't I?" Harry glanced at Dumbledore, then to Snape and back to Dumbledore. "That is why the Order- you all guarded me at the Dursleys and also guarded the Prophecy…. You believe I'm the weapon that can take Voldemort down."

"Harry-"

"Be honest, Professor. Please." Harry replied softly.

Albus Dumbledore stopped in his tracks, unable to lie point-blank at the boy who had just discovered his fate, alongside the strings that were binding him and pulling him towards his destiny.

"Yes. But we never thought you as an expendable, Harry. You are the best chance that Magical Britain has, more than anything before." Dumbledore confessed.

"That is why you let me study Dark Magic, and you are training me." It wasn't even an accusation. It was a fact. A statement borne out of the truth about his life. The deepest, darkest, and yet, the most expected fact about his life… Something that he had always known, and now… he had his confirmation.

"Harry…." Dumbledore tried.

"Tell me something," Harry asked, still in his hollow, emotionless voice, "-let's just say that by some fluke, I manage to put him down. What happens then? Will I become just another Dark Wizard to be put down before he turns into a pest?"

"Harry…" Dumbledore was horrified by his suggestion.

"Come on, isn't it your pledge to the Aldors to prevent the rise of a _dark God?_ What if I become that? Are you so sure?"

"I'm- I'm—yes, I'm sure of that, Harry." Dumbledore answered, stammering uncharacteristically, as he tried to digest the horrific suggestion Harry had just given him. Did he really think he would do that?

"Well then," Harry let out a deep sigh, "Give it to him."

"Excuse me?" Dumbledore questioned.

"Give. Him. The. Prophecy." Harry answered, punctuating each word, as if speaking to an extremely slow child.

"Harry, I'm afraid you do not understand the severity of the situation and-"

"I understand very well, Headmaster." Harry looked up. "May I'm not as skilled as him, or maybe I'm not as deadly, but whatever I have, it's all on him. He took away my parents; he took away Hagrid from me. I might not be able to bring them back, but I sure as well will avenge them."

It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but he knew, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did his parents - that there was all the difference in the world.


End file.
